#turned them fucking down. multiple times. they still ask me occasionally and I have a legit comepent boss

[evilgwrl]

ExHusband!Simon x Reader

You Want a Divorce? (Two)

Note: I feel like this is so bad im sorry!!!!

CW: Angst, titty sucking, passionate asf sex, simon missed ur pussy and you very much and vise versa, breeding kink, PIV (no protection, pls use it irl), squirting, simon eats the FUCK out of ur pussy, multiple orgasms, praise, hint of degradation, possessive!simon, OVERSTIMULATION, slight daddy kink… sorry

Part One

It was a quiet ride, the subtle sweeps of cars fleeting by as Simon gripped the wheel, eyes trailing off to the side to look at you briefly. Your head was leaned against the window, your knees knocking together anxiously as your daughter babbled in the back, cooing about how Mummy and Daddy were now back together.

You tried to hide the shed of tears that filtered across your iris, every small childish mumble like a stab to the gut as you listened to the genuine happiness in her tone. You would turn around occasionally with a small smile as you reached out to tickle her foot, giggles filling the car.

Simon pulled in, the car bouncing slightly as it hit the gravel carpark, his hand swerving into a spot before he turned to the back. “You excited, baby?”

Ella’s face lit up as she fumbled to take off her seatbelt, “Get me, Daddy! Get me! I wanna see the lions!” It was refreshing knowing she still viewed Simon as her hero, no matter how distant he was in their lives. You knew that even though your ex-husband was rarely around, his time with them did everything it could to mend the time apart. Toby woke up at the commotion, the toddler having slept the whole way there despite his older sister’s constant bickering about what animals she had to see first.

Everything seemed to flash past you as you walked inside, the whir of kids and noise sending your brain into overdrive as your eyes flickered to Simon with Ella swinging around on his shoulders and Toby kicking his legs in the stroller. You looked away; breath shaky as you attempted to compose yourself. This was supposed to be a happy day, for all of you, yet seeing him with your children, something that was supposed to be normal, felt so distant and unknown. Gathering yourself, you plastered a fake smile, hands reaching out to pinch your son’s cheeks as you grabbed the stroller.

Your heart hammered in your chest for the remainder of the day, fingers tingling with anxiety that bled into your veins, consuming your lungs with what seemed like everything but oxygen. It was a series of squeals and commotions from your young ones, their elation evident through the bright glow of their face, soft red resting on the apples of their cheeks. As the day quieted down, Toby slumped in the stroller as you tucked him into the car seat, his new plush crocodile cradled into his arms, mouth wide open as subtle breaths snored out.

Ella was cradled into Simon’s shoulder, her shoes half hanging off as she clutched onto him, dead asleep. You settled into the ride home yet your anxiety only seemed to heighten. You were alone with Simon, with no kiddish voices to break the tension, brown orbs glaring into the side of your face.

“Should we talk about this morning?”

You scoffed. “You have some nerve asking to talk about this morning,” you screamed into a hush, “What you did was completely disrespectful. Not only did you break into my house and kick my date out, but you left our kids in the car! What the fuck were you thinking?”

He cleared his throat, almost like he wanted to hold back how he felt. You noticed the white in his knuckles as he gripped the wheel, right eye twitching as he stared at the squiggles of tar ahead. “I don’t want our kids growing up thinking it’s normal for parents to separate. They need their mum and dad together, y/n.”

The world silenced for a second, the screams of the wind rushing past you seemed to slow as your voice cracked, seeps of emotion pouring out as you choked on your breath, “Then you should have fought for your family, Simon. There is no us anymore, it’s just them. They’re all that connects us now.”

You felt like all the ivory had been sucked out of your eyes, endless pits of your pupil consuming you whole, blurring your vision with fog as you blinked, hot streams of liquid salt spilling onto your cheeks, brimming at the cracks of your lips as you sniffled. You could feel his hesitation as he looked at you.

His words regurgitated in his throat as he stammered, tangled limbs reaching out to grip yours as you pulled away.

“Just drop us home.”

Your eyes had dried now, soft stains of bare skin caving through your foundation as you smudged your fingers against it. Simon stuttered as he pulled up to the driveway, tyres screeching to a halt as you sat in silence.

The soft strum of fingers caught your attention as you turned around, the innocent face of Toby looking back at his parents, tongue blabbing out of his mouth. “Dadda! You have dinner?”

“No, sport. Daddy’s gotta go-“

“Yeah, baby. Daddy will have dinner with us.”

You blinked at your own words, Simon’s surprised expression meeting yours. The wrench in your heart would never subside, the entirety of the beating organ still belonging to your ex-husband, but being a mother was a sacrifice. And you would sacrifice yourself in every existence you become one if it meant your children didn’t have to battle the same internal wounds.

“They’re tucked in,” Simon said, voice soft as he noticed your withered body in the couch. Your hair was messy now, strands spitting out as you anxiously tucked them back in, smoothing them down with the dampness of your palms as you ran around all night, ushering to the demands of your children.

“Thank you.”

You felt ill, your tongue cascading down your throat as you palmed at your knees, desperate for him to leave yet desperate for him to stay. Simon stilled, keys jangling in his hand before he sat down next to you, his weight disrupting the couch as he shuffled around.

“I need you to know that I did want to fight for you, y/n. I have counted every single day since you handed me those papers, waiting by my phone every single night on deployment hoping for you to text me, call me, fuck - blow my phone up. I never wanted the temporary absence that we had apart become permanent. Everything I said,” he breathed, voice cracking slightly as he looked away, “Everything I said on October 6th, 7 years ago, I meant. You weren’t supposed to get away from me - I shouldn’t have - I shouldn’t have let you get away from me.”

It was strange. Simon was never one for feelings, the brutality of his job allowed for any harsh emotions to crack through his fingers as he pulled a trigger, any dampness of tears would sweat through his skin as he pummelled a blade into an enemies head.

But it was you. And you weren’t violent, or any enemy, you were his wife, the person he vowed his entirety too.

Your anxious cascade cracked as you whimpered out a sob, chest heaving as you buried your face, tight with tears, into the pillows of your hands. You felt warmth spread through you, the texture of Simon’s fingers burning through you like wildfire, every ember he felt scorching through your flesh as he pulled you in.

Arms tangled together, intwining like wool as he wrapped you into his chest nimbly. A zephyr ran through you, your wrists clutched in his hands as you straddled him, the weight of you feeling like the grandest treasure upon him.

It was nothing strange, nor sexual but Simon recognised that cry, the differing pitch as you shuffled your frame into his. Simon knew you like the back of his hand, every crevice, every crease, every scar. He knew your backstory, and the one you made up to impress people. He knew the hex of the colour of your eyes and the print of your thumb. No papers would take that away from him.

Soaked eyelashes clumped into one as you looked up at him, orbs resembling once of a doe, innocence seeping through every inch of a salt-stained tear. His eyes met yours, apertures of cocoa reflecting your weary frame as you gripped onto him.

“Let me come home, please.”

Simon’s voice was desperate, it was raw, any shed of arrogance erased through the lines, eyebrows knotted together as he rubbed at the small of your back.

Your nod was subtle, but he could practically hear it, calloused hands gripping at the plush of your cheek and seeping through the tip of your spine, thumb rubbing at your earlobe as he clutched onto you.

Hot, seething pricks ran through your limbs as your lips connected, saline lining your mouth as he lapped at the heat of your tongue, rough groans leaving his lips as he savoured the taste.

Any diffidence left your body as familiarity sunk back into you. Hands pawed at the globe of your ass, gripping the flesh as anguished limbs wrapped around Simon’s waist.

With an easy tug, he lifted you, your hands wrapping around his neck as he pulled you in closer, teeth kissing. You never questioned Simon’s strength, and you wouldn’t start now as you felt your back hit your mattress.

He tugged at his shirt, the black fabric pooling on the floor as you sucked in a breath. Your eyes traced every scar, lighter flesh engraved into the skin of his torso, a short trail of hair disappearing into his pants as you stared at his burly physique.

Simon gripped at your shirt, the material practically ripping before his hands were at your chest, grabbing at your flesh desperately as you tangled your fingers into your bra, sliding it off. His mouth was hot on your chest, the sound of moans and pants filling the air as he positioned himself between your legs, teeth grazing the hard nubs, sucking with fervour as you whined, your hand at the base of his head, cradling it.

“Missed these so fucking much,” he practically whined, groping your tits as he pinched your nipples, lips sucking deep marks of possession into the soft skin. Your pants were desperate, begging him for more as you pulled his hair, fingernails clawing at his scalp.

Your hands fumbled with your pants, hips raising as he slid them off, clumsy fingers chucking them across the room as you laughed, lips connecting once more in a giggly state as his thumb pushed against the wetness of your panties.

“Missed how fucking wet you got for me. Such a good fucking girl,” he groaned, fingers rubbing at your heat through the thin cloth eliciting a pained moan from you.

“Simon - I need more, been so long.”

He choked out a laugh as his fingers hooked into the fabric, lace dribbling down your leg before he mewled at the sight of you. His hands held your thighs apart, your soaking cunt on display as it throbbed, slick folds glistening in the poor lighting.

“Prettiest fucking pussy,” he choked out to himself, placing your legs over his shoulder as he knelt down. Your back arched as you felt his tongue lick a long stripe of your pussy, his body seething for a taste of you as his lips found your neglected clit.

He lapped at you mercilessly, your cries and moans moulding into one with the filthy squelches of his mouth against your heat. Long digits circled your entrance, teasing you, before they curled in.

Your eyes rolled, pools of ivory exposed as you let out a guttural moan, your thighs tightening around his ears as he smirked against your pussy. Cocky fingers rubbed at the right spot, favouring the clench of your tight hole as he pulled every noise he could get from you.

You were barely cohesive as he lapped at your slick, the throbbing of your clit edging him on as he soothed your g-spot with the pad of his fingers. The coil you had only ever felt with Simon began to build, the familiar sensation pooling in your stomach as you stuttered out a whimper.

“Si- too much - I’m gonna-“

“That’s it baby,” he cooed, pulling away from your pussy for a second to take in your expression as you came, your face contorted with pleasure as your legs jerked, pussy wrapping tighter around his abusing digits as he fucked you through it with them. You looked down at him, saliva and your slick coating his mouth and chin as he grinned.

You stammered out a groan as his mouth attached back on your pussy, slurping up your liquid gold as you attempted to push his head away in overstimulation.

“Oh my- fuck - Simon - too much,” you whimpered your words commanding him to continue as he guzzled around your clit, teeth grazing the sensitive bud as your legs shook uncontrollably.

It wasn’t long before the continuation from your previous orgasm rose again, heat swarming your lower belly as you screamed out, your hand slapping over your mouth as you felt Simon’s spare hand wrap around your thigh, squeezing tightly.

You pulled at his hair, tugging at the ashy roots before you were gushing around his fingers and tongue again, sloshing liquids soaking your sheets as he groaned at the taste, mouth lapping it up with vigour. You whined in humiliation, the overwhelming pleasure becoming too much as you heaved.

“Si - no more -“

“I’m sorry baby, too fucking good. Will never get enough of your pussy.”

His words were filthy yet only held the truth, his continuous slurps against your heat causing your body to jerk as you relentlessly bucked your hips. Simon’s abuse continued on your pussy, your pussy gushing and coming another 6 times before he was satisfied, the sheet under you drenched in both your slick and squirt as Simon milked your overwhelmed cunt, claiming he was “making up for the months lost”.

You were dry heaving, throat dry as he captured your lips in a kiss, the taste of you infiltrating into your glands as you groaned, his hands reaching to tug at your breasts as he took in your fucked out state, legs jiggling and twitching as your pussy convulsed at the number of orgasms he dragged out of you.

You felt like you had been lying here for hours, yet you weren’t satisfied. You would only be content when he was inside you, stretching you to the brim as he pumped a load inside your worn-out hole.

“Simon - please - I can’t… I need you now,” you were practically crying, tears shedding at the brim of your eyes, bottom lip jutting out as he tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, slicking back the sweat on your forehead.

“I know baby, done so well for Daddy, hm? Even after all that you still need to be plugged full of me don’t you?”

You nodded as a harsh slap landed against your clit, your body jolting as you squeaked. “Yes, please,” you cried, “Please Daddy.”

His hands were like clockwork, tearing at his jeans as they released his cock, a satisfied groan leaving his body as he gripped at the tent in his pants, a sticky wet patch soaking the material before his length throbbed out, angry tip slapping his stomach as a trail of precum glistened against the base of his cock.

His dick was flushed red, begging for release as he ran it through the squelch of your sopping folds, rubbing against your manipulated clit as you moaned.

Your hands gripped his head as he leant down to kiss you, his arm holding him up while the other positioned himself at your entrance. He stilled for a moment, cock almost pressing in before he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you.”

The words were soft yet meaningful, your eyes interlocked as he began to push inside, your mouth gasping open as you clutched onto his shoulders. It was hard when you were together all those years to get accustomed to his frightening length, and now it had been a year and the stretch was searing through you.

“I know, sweet girl, you can take it. Such a tight cunt for me, so fucking good.”

Fingernails clawed at his back as he pushed in, your whines muffled by the palm of his hand as he held himself up his elbows. “Holy fuck,” he spluttered as he bottomed out, his lips connecting to your neck as he sucked, resting inside you for a second as you whimpered.

The burn slowly faded as you rutted against him impatiently, the tip of his cock resting against your sweet spot as you gasped.

“So fucking impatient, always been such a slut for me. Haven’t you?”

You nodded, whining as he began to move, moving his hips slowly as he rubbed inside you perfectly, your mouth wide open as your head lolled back. A series of expletives tipped from your tongue as you choked on the air, Simon’s pace picking up at your dramatic noises.

“Fuck - taking me so well-“ he grunted, hands groping at your tits as he watched your pussy absorb his length. It was an obscene sight and he loved it. Every fibre of your being belonged to him and it was something he constantly craved.

“All fucking mine - shit - my fucking pussy,” he grunted, thumb rubbing at your clit as you mewled, twitching below him as he spat, “my fucking wife - got the tightest fucking cunt just for me.”

You clenched around him at his words, knowing it was true as his balls slapped against your ass, skin spanking against each other as the sound filled the room, ecstasy roaring through both of your veins as you made love.

The squelch of your pussy was taboo as he lapped in the missed sound. His eyes took in the way your body reacted to every movement, no matter how small. He took in the way your breasts bounced with each thrust, lower stomach bulging as he pounded into you.

“Fuck - Simon - oh my God,” your words were a mere blabber, barely making sense as you clutched onto him, pulling him down to meet your lips.

“I can’t pull out, baby - fuck - gotta cum in this pretty pussy. Give you another kid, hm? - shit -“

His hips didn’t falter as his pace fastened, chasing his own high as he rubbed at your clit, your breaths growing shallow as your orgasm began to build. “Gonna fill you with my cum until it takes. Need your belly round again and your tits full - such a good fucking mum, makes me so fucking proud.”

His words were the final straw as the build up in your stomach popped, your whole body convulsing as your pussy clenched around him, a loud groan leaving his throat before you felt the hot splashes of his cum pumping inside you.

“That’s it baby, milk my cock. Such a good fucking girl for Daddy, gonna break you apart everyday on my cock until you never forget who you belong too.”

He didn’t pull out immediately, his cum plugged inside you as some seeped out, rolling down the crevice of your ass below you. Your eyes shut, gentle pants leaving your lips as you felt Simon’s absence before a soft cloth was wiped gently across your sex and masculine arms were gripping onto you, carrying you into the guest room before engulfing you into a thrill of heat, Simon’s chest against your back as you fell asleep.

TAGLIST: @kiiwiipie @nijiru

Disclaimer: im sorry if this is disappointing im super tired :(((

[fangswbenefits]

Tracking

𓂅 𓄹 Summary: You find out Miguel has been tracking something that concerns you… and him.

𓂅 𓄹 Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Breeding kink. Period talk. Miguel going all scientific and keeping track of fertility windows for maximum efficacy. Dry humping. Inspired by this ask.

Miguel was in a bad mood that afternoon. You could see it coming a mile off, because having spent that much time around him over the past years had revealed many warning signs.

The circular platform was lowered all the way down to the floor by the time you walked past the door.

Miguel not turning to acknowledge your presence was warning sign number one.

You strode up to it warily, as if expecting him to explode at any given moment. Trying to lighten the mood, you tip toed to place a sweet kiss to his cheek.

He grumbled in response.

Warning sign number two.

His eyes were fixed on the multiple of screen sprawled in a half-moon in front of him, occasionally tapping and moving them around when needed.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” you teased.

“I’m nearly done here.”

“Hello to you, too, grumpy,” you nudged his arm with a smile.

Miguel merely nodded.

Warning sign number three.

At this point, you figured something was definitely going on.

“What’s up?”

“Hmm?”

You sighed. “You look and sound off.”

He tapped on a screen to his left. “You’re on your period.”

“What?”

Usually, that sort of remark would earn any man a slap at worst or a ‘fuck you’ at best. There was no shortage of men who would use women’s hormones as an easy way to deflect their feelings.

But there was something in Miguel’s tone that resembled… disappointment?

He scowled deeply, turning to face you. “You’re not pregnant.”

You stared at him for a long time, before bursting into laughter. “Is that why you’re all grumpy?”

“Oh, you think this is funny?” Miguel’s eyes narrowed, his scowl deepening.

You stopped at once. “Wait… how would you know that?”

He returned his attention to the hovering screens in front of him. “Know what?”

“That I’m on my period?” you asked, suspicion rising inside you. “And I still haven’t gotten it, by the way.”

And just like that, Miguel’s crimson eyes were on you expectantly. “Why didn’t you tell me right away?”

You folded your arms while tapping your foot lightly. “No. You answer me first.”

Miguel knew better than to antagonise you, especially now that you had information that interested him.

Dragging his index finger across the panel, you saw a file pop up with your name. That didn’t seem odd at all. Every spider in Nueva York was required to have one that displayed several strategic details as well as bio data that was fed by the dimensional travel watch. Your heart rate was at a steady 67 beats per minute.

“What about it?”

He tapped on a second tab that read ‘Fertility’.

Nothing could have prepared you for the influx of information you were about to be bombarded with.

And what it concerned.

July 4th

Cycle day 1 - low chance of pregnancy

Fertility window - 12 to 18

Ovulation day - 17 (high chances of pregnancy)

“You’re tracking my period?!” you snapped in utter disbelief.

“I’m tracking your fertility window.”

You glared at him. “How is that any different?”

“It’s not. Just nomenclature,” he shrugged casually as if talking about the change of weather outside.

You shot Miguel a death glare, before shoving him to the side, gaining full access to the flickering orange screen. The data collected went back as far as three months ago.

Miguel had been tracking your fertility window for months now.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

He shifted to stand behind you, easily towering with his impressive height. “It’s my responsibility to get you pregnant.”

Your eyes widened partially in disbelief, but mostly at the realisation that this shouldn’t be a shocking revelation.

Miguel had to be in control at all times. It was embedded in his genetic code. A few months ago you had casually joked that you wouldn’t mind having a child soon.

It seemed that it was all the motivation he needed to begin his quest.

Now it made perfect sense why he had been so insistent on always cumming inside you. You just didn’t think he would be this dedicated.

Joke’s on you.

“But it seems the data is wrong,” he said lowly, arms circling around you to have his hands atop yours on the keyboard. “You can edit it,” he whispered, pressing himself fully against you.

The added pressure pushed your lower half gently against the control table, his thumb caressing the back of your hand.

“Are you trying to seduce me, so I ignore all of this?” you whispered, enjoying how the proximity was having a noticeable effect on his cock.

He rolled against you slowly. “Me? Of course not.”

His fingers intertwined with yours, and you watched your heart rate on the screen soar to 78 beats per minutes.

You fought back a whimper, as he was nipping at your neck, fangs lightly poking at sensitive skin. You could feel the hard print of his cock pressed against the curve of your ass, and as you bucked your hips instinctively, you felt his own meet you halfway, setting a slow rhythm.

90 beats per minute.

“Let me get a blood sample so I can test out,” he said, his erection pressed against your ass.

“Someone really wants to be a dad,” you said with a teasing smile.

99 beats per minute.

His other hand came to grip your jaw, tilting your head until you met his eyes. “I need you to get pregnant.”

Your breath was coming out in shallow pants as he kept humping you at a steady and torturous pace.

“You mean… you need to breed me, right?”

109 beats per minute.

His eyeds widened lightly and he thrusted harshly into you, causing a jolt of pleasure to travel all the way down to your clit. “That’s the same thing, cariño.”

You gave him a knowing smile. “Nomenclature and all that.”

Masterlist

[nuemanfilms]

JUST NEED A DISTRACTION

— Just by the look in your eyes, it was obvious, “Sweetheart, you don’t have to-“

summary Sam had been studying the same bit for the exam for hours. You knew it was serious, he was majored in law. The exam he was taking, he knew them all anyways. It’d been hours, he was visibly tense and stressed — so you convinced him to take a break for a minute. He needed something to release the built up tension.

cw SMUT!! set in Stanford!au, oral (m!recieving), gagging, deepthroating, swallowing, hair pulling, brief mention of pain kink, crying, soft dom!sam, sub!reader, throat fucking, praise (mixed with dirty talk, but sweet ‘cause it’s sam), established relationship, mentions of piv, sam being doe-eyed mention + more.

note oh my god, i’m so slow. I’m working on a dub/non-con fic with vamp!fem and sam, lmk if you’re interested!! It’s 10:05pm, please have mercy.

wc 1.2k

It’d been four months since you and Sam had started dating. You had a shared apartment together, on the campus of Stanford. Sam sat at the desk while the moonlight ethereally rested on the wooden material that the lamp shone down on. It wasn’t like Sam was going to get anything of the exam’s questions wrong, he knew them all. But still, he wanted to make sure he had the possible questions memorized.

You stood right behind his chair, nagging with a whiny tone for him to take a break. You occasionally rested your hands on his shoulders, softly massaging the tense muscles there.

He was stiff, like always. He had a habit of doing that when he was focused (like this), he couldn’t help it.

“Sam, you know all of this. You’re gonna do amazing, you know that. Just put it away for a minute… please?” You pleaded for what seemed like the sixth time that night. He was stubborn about this, he always was.

Sam’s head lifted up from the paper slightly, he sighed, rubbing his temples before he replied, “Baby I know, but I wanna make sure-“ You cut him off mid sentence.

“Sam, it’s been hours. You’ve gone over the same bit more than once. It’s okay… you can do it later.” He couldn’t resist the tone you used, he didn’t think ever could. Sam knew he was tense, and he knew that you knew it as well.

His head turned back to look up at you, his eyes staring at your own.

There were multiple traits that could be noticed about the boy, the most common one was his puppy-dog eyes. Whether he was looking up, or towering over you; it was noticeable. His irises held an emerald shade, which you swore there was a hint of blue. It was one of the many things that made Sam, Sam.

He relented, “Okay, okay. Just a little bit, though.” The smile that curled up on your lips was contagious, forming one on his own.

You could see that he was still visibly stressed, it wasn’t hard to miss on the boy’s face. It’d only been half a year since you’d met him, and you could read him like a book in a split second.

Sam’s eyes widened as he watched you lower to your knees on the floor, his breath slowly growing heavy. Just by the look in your eyes, it was obvious, “Sweetheart, you don’t have to-“ He still asked anyways.

“Just let me, baby… please?” The words of consent left his lips so fast, he didn’t even have time to process what he even said.

“Yeah- yeah, you can…”

Your hands clumsily went to his belt, quickly undoing the leather and pulling it out its loops. Sam had to bite back a groan, a heavy breath leaving his lips instead. Watching as you undid the button, then moved on to his zipper had him hardening just from your eager movements.

When your delicate, small hand wrapped around him, he groaned deeply at the contact. He barely managed to not come undone just at the sight. The eye contact he made with you, his breathing almost became heavier at the look in your gaze.

Sam’s eyes darkened more than he’d ever admit, the need was consuming him nearly whole.

“Go on, Honey..” He panted softly, his hand gently grabbed your jaw. His fingertips traced along the side of it, before he had a firm grip. Preventing you from looking away.

When his cock hit your tongue, he hissed. You were easing him down your throat, a soft moan leaving his parted lips. His head fell back slightly, he was trying — he tried so fucking hard to not thrust his hips just once.

He grabbed a handful of your hair, not hard enough to hurt you, but enough where he could guide you.

Your hands wrapped around the length of him that you couldn’t fit, pumping it as you worked your tongue. He was selfish — selfishly pushing your head further onto him.

The groan he made had you soaking your panties, he could hear the lewd noises of you gagging around him. Your nose pressed firmly at his base, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as he held you there.

His head was tilted fully this time, gasps and moans leaving spewing from his lips.

He loosened the grip on your hair, “God, baby… so fucking beautiful like that- fuck.. Your mouth feels so good, Sweetie. So good…” You moaned around him at his praise, pulling off before trailing your tongue along the underside of his cock.

The rough pads of his fingertips brushed against your cheek, wiping the stray tears that threatened to fall. The hold he had in your locks was tighter now, he tugged at it this time.

The moan that erupted from your throat had Sam realizing how much you liked that. He clearly saw the expression of pure bliss and lust on your face. He couldn’t help but love it, feeling the need to hold back breaths.

“Shit, you like that?” He teased, forcing your head back to look up at him. You couldn’t even form a coherent sentence, babbling on about how big he was, how you wanted him inside of you. You practically were drooling on him.

He cursed under his breath again, his chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath once more. He was so close to cracking, to pulling you up and pinning you to the bed so he could feel the heat of your pussy wrapped around him.

“I swear, baby… sound so good gagging on me like that, so warm, fuck-“ Sam was close, close to spilling his load down your throat. The feeling of your tongue on him, combined with your hands was heavenly. Sending sparks through his body and spine. Low moans and the way he was twitching in your mouth told you he was. You didn’t stop, god, you put your needs to the side for him.

“Keep going, Honey… doing so well, so pretty down there.” Your knees were bruising nearly, but you couldn’t focus on that. Not when he was singing praises for you.

Through heavy breaths and small grunts, he was inching closer and closer to the edge.

“Jesus, sweetheart… you want me to cum down your throat? Fill it up like that, swallow it all like a good girl?” Your muffled moan sent another course of shockwaves through him, he was gripping your hair so tight, the pain mixed with the excitement encouraged you further.

He let out a loud moan, forcibly pushing your head to engulf him fully. His hips bucked, hitting the back of your throat. Your mascara was running down your cheeks now, tears falling more freely.

Sam sounded nearly pornographic when he came, his hips bucking more on instinct than anything else. He was fucking his release into your mouth, groaning when he felt you swallow around him.

When his hand left your locks, you pulled off with a gasp for air. You stuck your tongue out, and Sam cursed himself for looking. The sight of it, the thought of you swallowing his cum could make him harden again in seconds, and it did.

He had to catch his breath before he spoke again, “God, you’re an angel, baby. Gonna fuck you so good, need to feel you around me again. Always so wet for me,”

[https-murdock]

Red Marks - Matt Murdock

summary: red marks and stinging skin, everything you relish in.

word count: ~1k

warnings: dirty talk, use of ‘good girl’ porn without plot, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap up), slapping, porn with pretty much no plot - 18+ MDNI

note: thanks for the request anon! i feel like this isn’t v good but then i had such a fun time writing it! enjoy :)

You weren’t exactly sure how those three words came out - it wasn’t even a conscious decision. They just… slipped out.

And Matt’s face didn’t help, the look of shock and the way his hips stopped moving.

“Please slap me.” you’d said, the way the words had just fallen off your lips were as if there was no thought behind them - and there wasn’t really. It just happened.

It was something you’d thought about for a while but kept to yourself, the way his hands landed on your ass and left little bruises on your neck. Your favourite part about him. those calloused fingers, the way they could gently run across your skin just the same as leave big red handprints behind. He was a man of many options.

“Say again?” He asks, cock still sheathed inside you, hips still as ever as he takes in the words you just said.

You decide to go with it, to save yourself the embarrassment of having to repeat yourself again in case he’s hesitant, “You heard.”

“I, uh, are you sure?” He mutters, kissing your neck gently, remaining the soft touched man he normally is. Normally he is gentle, soft and loving, something you thought you’d never find. But on the nights he comes back from his outings, he’s different - a lot different. He’s rough, he throws you around, uses you for his own pleasure. “I don’t wanna hurt you sweetheart.” Matt’s hips are moving gently now, rocking into you,

“You won’t, you’ve never hurt me before.” You say, trying to sound as confident as you can.

Matt’s hips are starting to hit yours with more vigour. Little whimpers fall from his lips occasionally, his hands gripping onto your tits as they move with his movements.

There’s no response to your request, and you figure he’ll just leave it, maybe he’s not into it - when his hand suddenly hits your cheek, leaving a slight sting behind. The noise makes you jump more than anything, the most gentle slap you’ve ever received.

Matt still seems hesitant, worried about causing any pain to the angel underneath him.

You moan, and loudly, as you feel him twitch inside you at the sound. “You like that? Like being slapped around?” He questions grabbing the back of your thighs and pinning them to your chest, pounding much quicker against you, hitting that spongy spot only he can reach.

“F-fuck, yes.” You groan, almost pleading for him to do it again as his eyes close at the way you clench.

His hand slaps against your other cheek, evening the slight redness he leaves behind. Matt is clearly softening to this idea, realising that making you such a whore for him is turning him on more than anything, feeling how wet you are around him making him painfully hard.

“S-shit. Such a whore.” He’s trying to talk, as best he can, but the way his hand felt on your face and the feeling of him fucking you into the mattress has sent you into another dimension.

The pace Matt is fucking into you is making your head spin, eyes fluttering closed as you bask in the pleasure he’s causing.

“All yours, only for you.” You say, your nails dragging across his forearms as all of his weight leans onto your thighs, knees coming just under your chin as you moan loud enough for the neighbours to hear.

“Can’t even be quiet, belong to me.” Whatever he’s saying seems to be multiple sentences cut up, but they all make sense to you. He’s clearly more open to your proposition now than before, hand leaving your leg to tap your already reddened cheek a few times.

Soon Matt is spinning you round, face down ass up as he enters you again in one swift motion, growling out loud at the feeling of your walls around him. The only things now audible are the sounds of your wet skin slapping and shared moans in the open room. Your hands grip harshly into the pillow, moaning “Fuck, Matt please.” and you aren’t even sure what you’re asking for, but you know you can feel the coil tightening in your lower stomach.

“You wanna come? want me to make you come?” He’s asking, hands gripping your ass cheeks so hard you can feel the bruises forming under his skin already.

“Shit, yes please, yes.” The words are leaving your mouth quickly, faster than even intended to be said.

“Come all over me, come.” He’s telling you, and it’s not in a soft tone like his voice usually is with you.

Matt’s fingers find your clit, snaking around your body as his face meets with your back, still ravaging you and chasing his own release. The slight burning feeling on your clit as he’s rubbing hard sends you over the edge, eyes screwing shut as you scream with your release.

“Good girl, so good.” He grunts, hips almost stilling as they slow slightly, loudly moaning as you’re coming down from your own high.

As you hear him moan, wetness dripping down your thighs from your own release, he’s spilling inside you. You slowly roll onto your back, making room for him to join you as he listens to how fast your heart beat is.

“Really turns you on, huh?” He smirks, his eyes closing as he pulls your head to rest against his chest.

“What, you turn me on? course you do, look at you.” you laugh, knowing what he means, avoiding the real question at hand.

“You know what i mean, i can hear your heartbeat. You really do like being slapped around.” You can hear the way he’s grinning to himself, and you know he’s not making fun of you, he’s just enjoying exploring how hard he can go.

“Ok, superhero. Yeah i do, you telling me you don’t like slapping me around?” You sit up, looking over at him and pushing his shoulder slightly.

Matt laughs, and just pulls you on top of him to say, “Well let’s see how much more you can take.”

— tag list —

@lambmurdock @parker-murdock @silas-aeiou @blushingrn @audreyclimbs

[candycandy00]

The Maiden’s Voyage - A Sukuna x Reader Fanfic Part 3

You’re a passenger on a ship attacked by pirates. The pirate captain Sukuna chooses you to be his entertainment for the voyage.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. AU. Sukuna as a Pirate Captain. Noncon/Rape! Very rough sex! Bondage. Violence. Blood. Spanking (with belt). Sukuna is a cruel, sadistic monster here! You’ve been warned!

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! There will be multiple parts because I got really attached to this idea and it was getting too long. Any feedback, comments, reblogs, etc. will make my day sunny and bright! 💖 Dividers by @benkeibear!

Pure, unbridled terror overwhelms you as Captain Sukuna drags you back into his quarters and slams the door shut behind him. He’s angry, you can feel it even though he’s still wearing his regular, smug expression. The fact that he’s not outwardly showing his rage is somehow even scarier. 

“Sukuna, I’m sorry! I-“

He suddenly rips the dress over your head, cutting off your pleading voice. You’ve been naked in this room many times, but you’ve never felt more vulnerable. You curl in on yourself, wrapping your arms around your body as you shrink away from him. 

“Do you know what I usually do to women who try to escape?” he asks, stepping closer to you. 

You shake your head, tears pouring down your face. 

He grins. “I use a hammer to break their ankles. Then I force them to dance for me.”

You look him in the eyes. “Is that what you’re going to do to me?”

He stares at you, and for a brief moment, the smirk disappears, and an unreadable expression replaces it. But it only lasts a moment before he grins again. “No. I don’t want to hinder your ability to get on your knees for me. You suck my cock so well after all.”

Sukuna puts his hand on your face, wiping your tears gently. “But I have to punish you. You understand that, right? So I’m going over options in my mind.” His hand moves, his thumb brushing over your lips. “I could break your fingers one by one. Watching you try to jack me off with your little mangled fingers might be exciting. Or I could dig one those pretty eyes out of its socket and keep it as a souvenir.”

You flinch as his fingers come dangerously close to one of your eyes. Both his hands are on you now, pulling your arms away from your body. “Of course the easiest way would be to hand you over to my crew for the night, let them take turns fucking all your holes.”

All you can do is look up at him with teary eyes, the occasional shudder or hiccup shaking your body. 

“But I don’t like sharing my toys,” he says, one hand moving to your hair while the other slides down to lightly grope your breast. He jerks your head back by your hair, then kisses you roughly. When he pulls away, he says in that smooth voice of his, “Thirty lashes. With my belt.”

“What?” you ask, not sure you heard him right. 

“That’s the punishment I decided on. I’ll give you thirty lashes. That’s the standard on this ship, though we use a whip on the men. I’ll be extremely lenient with you and use my belt.”

You blink away your tears. Being whipped with a belt will surely be painful and humiliating, but it’s far better than broken bones or gouged out eyes. “Why?” you find yourself asking him. “Why be lenient with me?”

He pulls you closer, your body flush against his. “Because I don’t want to completely break you just yet. You’re so delicate,” he says, his large hands moving over your nude, trembling body, “the slightest little thing could crush you. I’m not done playing with you yet.”

You shudder under his touch, his fingers ghosting over your bruises. The room isn’t cold, but you feel an inexplicable chill. 

“Now get on the bed, on your hands and knees,” he commands. 

You do as you’re told, not wanting to anger him any further. When you’re on the bed, facing his headboard, you suddenly feel shaky on his firm mattress. “L-like this?” you ask. 

“Raise your ass higher,” he says, “and spread your knees.” 

You glance back at him in time to see him pulling his shirt off, those mesmerizing tattoos moving with his taut muscles as he unbuckles his thick leather belt. 

He’s seen every inch of you so many times by now, but somehow you feel more embarrassed than usual as you follow his orders. You move your knees far apart and lean slightly forward so that your ass lifts higher than the rest of you. In this position, your pussy is totally exposed. You bury your face in his sheets, mortified. 

“Keep your face up,” he says, stepping closer and wrapping one end of his belt around his fist. “I want to enjoy the expressions you make.”

You look over your shoulder at him as he stands behind you. “Monster,” you mutter under your breath. 

“What was that?” 

“N-nothing!”

He grins, his red eyes seeming to glow menacingly. “I’ll show you a monster.” 

Then, he swings the belt down, hitting it right across both your ass cheeks with enough force to knock your body forward a few inches on the bed. Fresh tears fill your eyes at the pain. You didn’t think it would hurt this much! 

Whack! 

The second hit is somehow worse than the first, and you choke back a sob. You’re supposed to endure thirty of these?!

Whack!

You clamp your hand over your mouth to avoid screaming. In your mind, you’re repeating a mantra: it’s better than broken bones! It’s better than broken bones! 

Whack!

This one hit directly where a previous strike had, and it occurs to you that there’s only so much space on your ass. Meaning most of the hits are going to be on already damaged flesh. 

Whack! 

You whimper, finally letting pitiful cries escape you. 

Sukuna pauses, stepping around to the side to look at your face. “Don’t tell me you’re breaking already,” he says in a mocking tone. 

“It hurts!” you cry, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you. 

Suddenly you feel his hand on your sore ass. He squeezes it, making you yelp. “It’s supposed to hurt,” he tells you. “This is a punishment, remember? Though I’m not sure your slutty body understands that.”

You look back at him. “What?”

He’s behind you again, staring between your quivering legs. “You’re a mess back here, dripping all over my bed. It’s running down your thighs.”

No way. That can’t be true! You’re not enjoying this! But now that he’s mentioned it, you can feel the wetness there, the fluid sliding down your skin. More humiliated than ever, you try to hide your face again. That’s when his hand slides down, his fingers slipping inside your soaked pussy. 

You gasp, your body jerking. Your first instinct is to try to crawl away, but his fingers feel so good! They’re stroking you just right, and the pleasure is such a sweet distraction from the pain. You let out a weak moan, and you hear Sukuna laugh. 

“You want me to fuck you, don’t you? You’re clenching around my fingers.”

“No!” you cry, you legs growing wobbly from the pleasure. “It just… it just…”

His thumb glides over your clit. “It just what?”

“It just feels good!” you scream, on the verge of climax. 

He moves his hand away, and you whine at the loss. “I’m not letting you cum,” he says, and he brings the belt down again. This time the rough leather collides with your sensitive pussy, and the sting of it makes your vision go white. You cry out, but Sukuna is merciless, giving you five more lashings in the same spot, reducing you to a sobbing mess. 

“Now you’ve got my belt sticky,” he says, holding it up. You can see parts of it glistening with your juices. 

“Please, I don’t think I can take anymore!”

He moves to the side again, this time putting a hand on top of your head, rubbing your hair. “You can, and you will. And when it’s over, I’ll reward you. I’ll make you cum until you lose your mind, then I’ll fuck this needy little cunt until you can’t walk.”

*********************

Sukuna loves the look on her face, the mixture of arousal and pain. He’s already so hard he could burst out of his pants, and watching her drenched pussy twitch and leak is making it very difficult for him. But he’s strong enough to hold back until her punishment is over. 

He continues the lashings, enjoying the sight of the red stripes appearing on her soft skin. Droplets of blood bead along some of the lines, and she makes the sweetest whimpers and sobs. She’s shaking, the sheets balled into her small fists, her lovely face wet with tears. He has to start talking to keep himself from cumming at the mere sight of her. 

“Why did you wait so long to try escaping?” he asks her. “I was just about to give up and go back to my cabin. Were you afraid of getting caught? Or… something else?”

Her voice is so small when she answers, “Something… else…” between strikes. 

“Oh?” Has she broken down to the point that she can’t think to lie? “And what would that be?”

She doesn’t answer, so he gives her a particularly hard strike, and she cries out, dropping her head onto the mattress. He gives her a moment to catch her breath. When she raises her head again, she looks back at him. Her pretty face looks so embarrassed! It’s delicious! 

“I just… had trouble walking out the door,” she finally says. “I don’t know why!”

His hand moves to her wet, quivering pussy again, rubbing it gently. She flinches, probably because of the lines etched into the delicate skin by his belt. “I see. Your body is growing addicted to the pleasure I give you.”

As if to emphasize his point, his fingers stroke her clit, making her moan. 

If Sukuna were honest with himself, he’d admit that he’s also becoming addicted to her body, to the way it responds to his touch, to the way she feels wrapped tightly around his cock. 

To the way she looks at him and says his name. 

There’s only a few lashings left, and bizarrely, Sukuna is eager to finish them. Is it because he wants to fuck her as soon as possible? Or because he’d rather hear her moan than sob? 

He’s being very lenient with her already. He didn’t lie when he told her he usually broke the ankles of those who attempted escape. And he did actually consider doing it to her. But when he looked into her terrified eyes, he just couldn’t bear the thought of maiming her. 

It’s strange. He finds the pain of others arousing, especially that of beautiful women. And he certainly enjoys hurting this lovely maiden. But he doesn’t think he could enjoy seriously injuring her. 

“Last one,” he announces as he swings the belt down a final time. Her body jolts from the impact, but she holds back any sound. Her shoulders are shaking, and he feels the inexplicable urge to pull her into his arms and hold her. But he doesn’t. 

“I believe I promised you a reward.”

She looks back at him sharply as his fingers begin caressing her sore, striped body. “Wait, please, I can’t-“

He finds her clit, rubbing it gently, and her words become a moan. Perhaps as a reflex, her body presses back, toward his hand. He looks over the red lines covering her flesh, admiring the way they criss-cross to make beautiful patterns. He traces them with his other hand, then begins lightly kissing them. 

She shudders, sighing softly. The small droplets of her blood cling to his lips, and he licks them clean. Every part of her tastes so sweet. Speaking of which…. 

“Ahhh!” she cries out when she feels his mouth on her dripping pussy, his tongue invading her folds to lap at her swollen clit. He wants to bite her, but remembers this is a reward, so he licks gently until her whole body trembles and she nearly collapses. She cries through her orgasm, overwhelmed by sensation. 

He continues licking her, his fingers sliding in and out of her. Totally exhausted, her arms give way, and her top half falls limply on the mattress, her ass still slightly elevated and her thighs still spread. It’s such a vulnerable position, it’s almost pitiful. But how can Sukuna resist such a feast laid out before him? 

He makes her cum twice more with his mouth, leaving her weeping and pleading for him to stop. She’s overstimulated, sore, and probably getting emotional. That much is obvious. But Sukuna hasn’t had his fun yet, so he opens his pants and pulls out his rock hard cock, then shoves it into her tender, drooling pussy. 

She cries out in sheer desperation, her body practically a rag doll at this point. He firmly grips her waist and pulls it back toward him at the same time as he thrusts into her, allowing him to penetrate even deeper than ever. He thought she’d lost all strength, unable to move, but she’s clenching him so tightly that he has to think of the smelliest, grossest member of his crew for a moment to try to calm himself down. 

He slams into her, over and over, while she lies there with her tear streaked face smashed against the sheets. Poor little thing. She doesn’t even realize her night is just getting started. 

******************

The next few days go by in a blur. You spend all your time in Sukuna’s quarters. If he’s in the room, he’s usually fucking you, or he’s looking over maps at his desk while you suck him off underneath it. 

When you’re alone, you sleep. Once a day you bathe in his private washroom. So far he’s given you no restrictions on how often you can use the bathroom or what you can eat. From what you can tell, you eat the same things he does. 

One day you realize with a start that you’re looking forward to him returning to his room, looking forward to seeing his face. You can’t understand why. You’ve come to crave his touch, even though he’s rough and often hurts you. Because sometimes, his touch brings you so much pleasure that you think you might die. 

“We’re stopping at a small port today,” he tells you out of the blue. “Just to load up on supplies. You’ll be staying in my quarters of course.”

You nod, having no desire to risk another escape attempt. You got off easy last time. If it happens again, he’ll surely do something terrible to you. 

Sukuna leaves, and you spend the day waiting for his return. When he comes back hours later, he reaches you something wrapped in brown paper. “What is this?” you ask him. 

“A present. Something that suits you more.”

You can’t imagine what it could be, but you sit on the bed and carefully open the package. Inside, you find a beautiful dress made of red velvet with white lace trim. You hold it up, marveling at its luster. “This is for me?”

He’s grinning as he watches you. “Try it on. I think I guessed your measurements well.”

You hurriedly pull off the tattered dress you’ve been wearing, barely feeling any embarrassment at all at this point. Then you pull on the new dress. It fits you perfectly, and feels luxurious. You rush over to the mirror in the corner of the room and look at your reflection. You’re bruised and your hair is a mess, but the dress looks lovely on you. 

“It doesn’t compare to your beauty, but it’s better than the rag you were wearing,” he says. 

You feel heat flood your face. You don’t know how to react when he says something like that. “Thank you for the dress. I love it.”

“Good,” he says. “I’ll try not to rip it off you.”

Two days later, Sukuna invites you to join him on the deck. There’s no celebration this time, but the sun is setting over the water, and he pulls you close to him as the two of you watch. 

It’s a quiet, peaceful moment, and you almost begin to relax for the first time in days. But then you hear a strained voice say, “Sukuna!”

Both you and the captain turn around to find a man standing a few feet away. He’s clutching a shiny silver dagger in both hands as he stares at the two of you. Sukuna looks at him for a moment then says, “You’re not a member of my crew. Who are you?”

The man has rage in his eyes as he says, “My fiancé was on a ship you raided a month ago. You bastards murdered her and left her body ripped open on the deck! Now I’m going  to kill your woman!”

Everything happens so fast. The man lunges at you, pointing the blade right at your chest. You scream and try to put your hands up in a defensive manner. And at the last second, Sukuna moves in front of you, his tall body creating a shield. You hear the terrible sound of a blade stabbing into flesh, and blood splatters across the wooden deck as you cry out Sukuna’s name. 

[pretty-little-mind33]

Tangerine x fem!reader

Summary: Since the mission in Tokyo, you wanted Tangerine out of your life as soon as possible. Instead, he stormed back in to save you from yourself.

Genre: Fluff, Enemies To Lovers <3

Warnings: excessive amount of swearing, sexual themes, canon like violence, mentions of violence, blood, career sexism

TANGERINE MASTERLIST

You were only supposed to snatch a stupid briefcase for your friend, Carver. Instead, your trip ended with a crushed up train, three concussions, one broken arm, multiple bruised egos, and a whole lot of unrequested fun facts about Thomas The Tank Engine.

Oh, and a man you were convinced wanted to become your mortal enemy.

You had heard about the infamous Twins in passing — the Bolivia case mostly — and you never questioned anyone when they assured you they were professionals. At least not until you saw them fuck up more than once in one evening.

You liked Lemon. He was a decent guy, a smart assassin, and he made you laugh with his corny obsession with a children's show.

His brother however — what a fucking asshole!

Tangerine had came in strong with an attitude. He was just eye roll here, sucker punch there, and whine, whine, whine. He also had the worst timing, somehow always running into you whenever you were trying (and failing) to do your fucking job.

He seemed just as irritated by you as you were by him, however it was obvious he loved having you at his mercy: wether that was stuck pressed between the train and his arms, with his gun lodged into your throat, or hearing you say "please" and "thank you" when he swooped in like a devilish knight and saved you from a deadly bullet to the stomach.

Still, you couldn't leave Tangerine's deranged ass quicker once the nightmare that had been that mission was finally over.

You really didn't think you'd see the twins again — certainly not at the same club where you were supposed to carry out your, rather simple, information extraction mission but when you do, your eyes narrow.

Lemon looks mostly casual. His dyed platinum hair is curled around his face as he leans his arm around the booth he's sitting in, casually conversing with another man you don't know.

Standing next to the booth, Tangerine looks even less casual. He's wearing his all too familiar dark blue blazer. His hair and mustache are just as neat as they had been on the train that evening and you smirk. He has a lit cigarette dangling from his lips as he occasionally takes it out and obnoxiously blows smoke into the air.

He looks infuriatingly good.

You cross your arms, watching them from across the room. You look around. Your target hadn't made an appearance yet and in the meantime you'd had to turn down many desperate and drunk men swarming you for your attention.

"Fancy seeing you here, luv." You smirk, hearing his voice, hoarse and velvety, near your ear. He'd found you quickly. Seems like he has a talent for that and you wonder if he'd somehow planted a tracker on you.

"Stalking me now, Orange?" You ask, not even bothering to turn around as you lean on the bar counter and start to intentionally swirl your drink around the glass.

"Tangerine." He corrects.

You turn this time. Your eyes meet his chest and they start to slowly move up until you can look at him in his annoyingly beautiful blue eyes, "Potayto, potahto." You say, shrugging your shoulders.

"Well, aren't ya as chirpy as ever, Poppy." Tangerine snarls. Your lips curl hearing the code name you'd used on that train. You've been using it ever since.

You look around seeing your target walk into a small room in the corner of the club. You run a hand in your hair, smack your lips together, and glance nonchalantly at Tangerine. You send him a sweet smile, "Well, Clementine, I always enjoy our little chats but I'm quite busy and don't have time for your potty-mouth right now." You turn away from him.

He catches your arm, "I really wouldn't follow im in there if I were ya, darlin" He warns seriously. You turn around, skeptical, but listen to him anyway.

"Why is that?" You ask, crossing your arms.

"Because, luv," Tangerine smirks as he firmly holds your shoulders and turns you both around. Nonchalantly, he gestures towards the door to the little room the man walked into, "That bastard hired Lemon and I to kill ya."

You tense, "What?" You spin around, heart pounding.

"Ya seriously din't think you'd been asked to be a fucking honeypot without any exterior motives?" You feel insulted until Tangerine continues, “You're an assassin, darlin', and a pretty damn fucking good one. Having you as a honeypot is a crime in itself." You realize it's the first time Tangerine has complimented you and he's looking at you with an unusually concerned expression.

"So, what are you waiting for?" You blink, completely serious.

"Excuse me?"

"Kill me." You say calmly, "Since when do you and Lemon not finish a job?"

The brunet looks at you like you've gone completely insane (which maybe you have) and then laughs, "Ya want me to kill ya, doll?" Tangerine genuinely looks like he's just heard the funniest thing in his life. However, his eyes narrow darkly and his hands curl harshly around your arm, "Fine."

Sure, you know Tangerine had been ruthless on that train but you'd also been extremely aware that he'd intentionally missed opportunities he had to kill or badly wound you. So, when he yanks you into the men's bathroom, you panic.

You pull against his arm and push against chest as you try to take out the small knife you always cram inside your boot, but Tangerine is too quick. Your body is suddenly thrown across the bathroom like you're nothing and you crash into the mirror, ribs hitting the sink. You stare at him, eyes fluttering from the pain as you sway on your feet and clutch your side.

Tangerine looks completely unfazed as he struts over to you and then grabs your chin between his fingers so forcefully you unintentionally whimper, "Where's the assassin I met on the train, huh?" He asks, his voice smooth, "Haven't given up so easily, have ya, darlin'?"

You stare at him. He's taunting you. He wants you to fight him. Quickly, you knee him in the groin and side kick him to the ground. He stumbles a little but recovers from the hit. A sensible voice in your head screams at you to run but instead you pull Tangerine up by the collar of his expensive suit and body slam him against the wall, your forearm crushing his throat.

When you look at him, Tangerine is smirking cockily, "Atta' girl." He croaks.

You realize a little too late that the only reason you managed to pin Tangerine to the wall was because he was letting you. The moment he resists, you're the one easily pinned as one of his hands presses your wrists above your head.

Time suddenly feels unimportant as you look into his eyes. “Am I in danger?" You whisper, breathlessly.

Tangerine's stoic expression falters a little and he drops your arms and looks around the bathroom. He turns back to you, running a hand in his hair. “Yes." Your heart leaps, “Lemon and I mean you no harm, but someone else wants you dead, Poppy."

His hand slides down your back as he leads you outside of the bathroom and back into the busy noise of the club. You catch his arm as he walks in front of you, "Tangerine, wait," You say, voice raspy. You watch him turn around. His hair is messy from his hand and he's looking at you like he's never heard you say his name before.

Your heart is beating out of your chest and you want to ask him to stay. A little part of you wants him to stay so he can take care of you. Only, you can't ask him that. You've looked after yourself and you've long accepted that that's how it would always be.

"What?" Tangerine frowns, wearing an irritatingly handsome expression for someone that looks so confused and, frankly, a little annoyed.

You frown and, as hard as you can, slap him across the face. From his profile, you can see a dark glimmer appear in his eyes and his jaw tightens. He doesn't react as he slowly looks at you again, and then he can't because you're kissing him.

You bury your nails into his cheeks as he wastes no time to grip your hips with his hands. You kiss him passionately and clumsily — like you've never kissed anyone before but somehow when his lips move against yours it still feels flawless.

"Fuck," Tangerine groans when you bite his lower lip and smile proudly.

He pulls you closer to him and his hand comes up to hold your neck as his fingers bury themselves in your hair. He jerks your head backwards painfully but you groan in approval. Tangerine begins to suck on the skin of your neck like he's been starved of you for years.

You don't want him to pull away when you feel him move so you chase his lips. He chuckles, his voice low, and cups your cheeks in his hands as he looks at you. His eyes are weirdly affectionate for a man who's a cold blooded killer.

"Are you going to turn me in?" You ask him, your face still in his hands.

"What didn't ya understand when I told ya Lemon and I won't cause you any harm?" He rolls his eyes, gently patting your cheek. Slowly, as if savoring the touch of your skin, he slides his hands down your arms and then intertwines your fingers with his, "Come on, we're leaving."

You let him lead you through the sweaty bodies of the dancing crowd until you reach the booth where Lemon sits. He sees his brother and then his eyes flicker to your hands and the corner of his lips curl, "I see you found er," Lemon waves at you.

"Bugger off," Tangerine snarls, hearing something in Lemon's voice that you hadn't, "And get off your fucking arse, Lemon," He adds, "I don't wanna deal with that bloody bastard when he realizes we aren't killing er. I don't want his filth on my suit. I like this suit."

Tangerine lets your hand go to adjust his collar. You cross your arms and look around the club. Accidentally, you make eye contact with someone and your entire body freezes.

He sees you before you can look away. Quickly, you turn to Lemon and Tangerine, who haven't stopped bickering, and slap Tangerine's chest to get his attention. He looks at you, eyebrow raised, "Hate to break up the love-fest boys, but I think our little friend just realized you lads plan on keeping me fucking breathing." You hiss.

"Bloody fucker." Tangerine whispers, his eyes glued on the man approaching you all as Lemon stands. Lemon pulls out his gun and unlocks it with a click. You bend over to take the knife from inside your boot but the moment you have it in your hands, Tangerine snatches it from you and replaces it with his gun.

"I don't want this," You deadpan.

"Don't argue." He squints at you and twirls your knife in his hand.

Ignoring him, you reach for your weapon anyway, "I like my knife, thanks."

Tangerine tuts and holds it above his head, smirking, "Guns are safer, luv." He patronizes.

"Misogynist asshole." You grumble, earning a frown from him.

"Mates, now ain't the time." Lemon interrupts sternly. You look behind him and see that the man who'd hired you to kill him, just for him to kill you, has a few other bulky looking buddies with him and they're much closer than they were earlier.

Without hesitation and because Tangerine is distracted, you manage to jump up and take the knife from his hand. You then proceed to meticulously launch it past the swarm of dancing bodies. With a smoosh it lands smack in the middle of one the men's head and the sound of his body hitting the ground causes a mass panic.

"Fucking brilliant," Tangerine scolds, looking annoyed, "Now ya lost the fucking knife." His hand wraps around your forearm and he whispers in your ear, "And I ain't misogynistic, sweetheart, I just don’t wanna see ya hurt," He admits.

He starts to pull you away but you wiggle out of his grip, "Poppy!" He shouts as you sprint towards the men.

Fuck this, you think, if those motherfuckers want you dead then you won't wait around for them to kill you – you'll kill them first.

You take the man closest to you in a scissor leg takedown, slamming him onto the ground. You snatch your knife from the dead man's head as he lays not far from you and slit the throat of the man you're pinning to the ground. You spin your head around and throw Tangerine his gun. Quickly, he unlocks it and, with Lemon, starts shooting past the innocent civilians and manages to fatally hit a few of the men.

You make your way to the leader and front kick him in the hand so he drops his gun. When he does, you try and bend over to retrieve it from where it fell only the man manages to punch you in the jaw. You stumble over, tears pricking your eyes from the pain, but stand up anyways. "Who the fuck are you?" You demand, returning a punch that the man easily avoids. He backhand slaps you so hard you groan. You fall onto your knees and your knife slides out your hands and across the floor.

"You don't remember me?" The man asks with a snarl, his Irish accent thick.

"No." You hiss, crawling to reach your knife. Only, the man kicks you in the stomach and you can't help the scream that leaves your lips.

You blink, cheeks and palms pressed to the floor as you helplessly watch Tangerine and Lemon in action. There had been more men then you'd anticipated and while the Twins can certainly assert themselves in combat, they're far too concerned with defending themselves to help you.

You feel a hand grip your hair and the man harshly turns you around so he's straddling your hips. He presses your knife against your neck and smiles at you. He's young, clean-shaven, and has moles sprinkled across his cheeks like small freckles. You stare at him only to have him spit in your face. Shutting your eyes, you snap, "What the fuck?" and struggle against him.

"You took everything from me, Y/n." He growls and your heart leaps. He knows your name.

"I don't even know who you are!" You try to buck your hips so he falls but he's too strong.

"You stole my job. The hit on the Senator and his family a few months ago, remember them?" You nod, "Well it was mine and you swooped in and took it from me. My reputation, gone in seconds because of some inexperienced, useless, brat." He rants like a madman and presses the knife harder until it strains crimson.

"Everyone steals jobs, it happens." You explain, voice hoarse.

"And yet you couldn't even finish it."

You can barely breathe anymore. "I couldn't kill the child." You explain.

"I know. I did, and yet you still took all the fucking credit," He smirks and lifts his arm. "You ruined my reputation – everyone said I was beaten to the task by a fucking girl – and now you're gonna pay." You squeeze your eyes shut.

Instead of the pain from the knife you hear one gunshot and suddenly the man collapses onto you. Instantly, you sit up and shove him away. Your head snaps up, eyes wide, to see whoever just shot him.

Tangerine stands over you, tucking his gun back into his pants behind him. There's blood splattered across his cheeks but you don't think it's his. He grins, "Now he's a fucking misogynistic bastard." He holds out his hand and helps you stand, "Ya ok, luv?"

You nod slowly and look around the club. There are bodies everywhere. Lemon stands in the center, cleaning his gun and he tilts his head at you, "We should skedaddle before the coppers come." He points out.

You nod again and let Tangerine and Lemon walk you out and into their car.

* * *

The Twins house is as you would have imagined. It's basically a mansion and just as polarized as they are. All the rooms Tangerine touches are neat and fancy, while whatever is Lemons has more of a messy, boyish, charm.

You're sitting on the kitchen counter as Tangerine presses alcohol to your neck as he cleans your wound. He's uncharacteristically gentle with you,

"So, what did that wanker want with you anyway?" He asks, not looking into your eyes.

You grimace, "I stole his hit, apparently."

Tangerine raises his brow, "And he wanted to kill you because of it?"

"I also took his credit for killing the Senator's four year old son," You sigh, "When in reality, I couldn't bring myself to harm the little boy." You feel pathetic in front of Tangerine, who is silent for a moment until he says,

"I wouldn't have killed him either."

You look up at him, "Really?"

He looks you in the eyes, "Really. I don't harm kids." He pauses and then moves some hair away from your face so he can clean some more scratches you have on your skin, "Why'd ya take credit for the kill?"

"I didn't want to seem weak in front of my employer. He already trusts men more than women." Your sentence dies and you look away, "This is a male dominated business, you know? Like most careers, us women have to survive somehow." You bury your head in your hands, "I know it's dishonest but the only reason I got that job on the bullet train was because I earned a little reputation from the Senator hit."

Tangerine suddenly laughs and it makes you turn your head towards him again, "What?"

"I understand, luv. Ya don't need to explain yourself."

"You do?"

He kisses your forehead quickly, "Mmhm."

You feel weirdly fuzzy with his lips on your skin and you remember your previous kiss. You aren't sure if you should mention it, or simply pretend it had never happened. Tangerine pulls away from your skin, but his finger slips under your chin and tilts your head to look at him. His eyes jump from yours, then down to your lips, and you hold your breath.

When he kisses you, you know there is no need for talk anymore.

"Should have known you had a soft spot for me." You say anyway, smirking into his lips.

Tangerine frowns, "What's that, sugar?"

"You're secretly a softie, aren't you?" You tease him with a smile.

Unsurprisingly, his frown deepens and he warns, "You're startin' to get on my nerves, sweetheart. Continue like this and next time, I'll leave ya to defend yourself from that arsehole."

You fake hurt, dramatically crossing your hands over your heart, and flutter your eyelashes at him, "You wouldn't, Tan."

"Nah," Lemon interrupts the banter, entering the kitchen with his pink boxers and his mouth full of mint toothpaste, "He couldn't leave ya, Poppy. You're all he ever talks about."

"Shove one up your arse, Lemon." Tangerine hisses, eyes narrowing at his brother.

"You dug your own grave, mate, lay in it." Lemon dismisses him with his hand, "G'night." He smiles at you and spits in the skin. Tangerine watches Lemon walk out of the room. His face is deformed into an annoyed expression,and the moment Lemon shuts the door behind him, Tangerine looks at you.

"Zip it." He demands. He taps your upper thigh as an indication for you to jump off the counter. When you do, his hands linger on your waist, "Come on, you're up way past your bedtime, luv." He smirks at his own joke as he leads you out the kitchen and down the hallway.

Tangerine's room smells like him and is cleaner than your entire apartment. You walk to the queen-sized bed and marvel at how comfortable it is when you sit on it. "Here," Tangerine says nonchalantly and hands you one of his shirts. He turns around, making sure you have your privacy, as he starts to unravel his blue-tie.

You don't protest as you step out of your dress and throw his shirt over your head. You feel out of place when Tangerine turns back around and looks you up and down. He raises one eyebrow, "Well?"

"Well what?" You ask, confused.

"Get into the bloody bed, Poppy." He says harshly.

"What? Where are you sleeping?"

Tangerine runs a hand in his hair, "In the living room."

"Bullshit. You can sleep in your own bed, I’ll sleep on the couch." You pause, eyes scrunching, "Or I- I'll juts go home."

Tangerine smirks, "In my shirt?" He motions to your dress on the ground and you feel your cheeks burn with embarrassment, "Just shut up and listen to me for once." He says.

"Then you stay too. There is enough room," You reason as you walk to one side and dramatically pull down the covers. You stare at him with wide eyes and pat the mattress, "You aren't afraid to sleep with a woman, are you now?" You tease.

Tangerine's cheeks flame and he grumbles something under his breath but he’s shedding his blazer. You avert your gaze and climb under the covers.

Your back is turned to Tangerine as you hold your breath, eyes bouncing around the room. Then, the light switches off, the bed dips and suddenly you feel warmth next to you.

"Tan?" You whisper into the darkness after a moment.

You hear him shift in the bed and then a small hum to tell you he' listening, "Poppet," He mutters and your lips curl upwards.

"Thank you.”

Silence.

"While I do appreciate the gratitude, why ya thanking me?" He asks, his voice low.

"Thank you for not killing me, and saving my ass, and of course letting me stay here — with you and your brother — " Your chest feels lighter and your eyelids start to feel sleepy. You feel Tangerine shift in the bed again and suddenly his arm is around your waist.

Your skin prickles with goosebumps and you shiver as Tangerine pulls you into him until you're curled up against his chest. You let out a shaky breath when you feel his cheek rest near yours, "Shhh, sleep now, luv. We'll leave the thank yous for tomorrow, hmm?" His voice is uncharacteristically sweet.

You hum in approval and let your eyes flutter shut. You start to drift in and out of sleep but you're almost certain you hear Tangerine mutter, "I'd never let anything bad happen to ya, Poppy. I promise, you're safe with me," just before you fall into the most relaxing sleep you know you'll ever have.

[loveisanimaginarydagger3000]

Kinktober (5)- Dirty Talk

Natasha X Reader 18+

Summary: After listening to the filthy words Natasha whispers in your ear, you can't help but leave the party with her, desperate for her and the toy between her legs.

Warnings/Tags: SMUT MDNI, Dirty talk, Fingering, Oral Sex, Multiple Orgasms, Cum-Filled Strap-on, Creampie, Hair-puling

Kinktober Masterlist

“Hey Kotenok,” Natasha purrs into your ear from behind, her arms wrapping around your middle, head resting on your shoulder as you continue to listen to Steve talk about what life in the 1940s was like. Your hands interlock with hers and rest near your stomach, your thumb sweetly brushing over the back of her hands, a content sigh leaving her lips.

“Hi love,” you whisper when Steve turns his attention to Wanda who asks a question based on what he said, head tilting to the side when she becomes more intrigued with his answer.

“You look so beautiful tonight,” she murmurs before placing a kiss on your cheek, lingering a little longer than necessary, “But I bet you’d look even better all fucked out for me.” You choked on your drink, everyone's attention turning to you and the spy as you flush red, her poker face much better than yours.

“Sorry,” you muster out, “It went down the wrong way.” You can practically feel the smirk planted on her face and try to even the playing field out. Pushing your body backwards, you aimed to make her just as worked up as you were getting but almost let out a moan of your own when you felt the large strap hidden under her suit.

“You feel that Kotenok?” she asks knowingly, pushing her hips more into your behind, your jaw clenching to hold back the inappropriate noise. “I can’t wait to ruin you with this later, watch it stretch you out and have you screaming my name,” her words sultry as her voice barely wavers over the sound of a whisper, not to alert the others of the dirty things she tells you.

“Fuck,” you mutter under your breath, her hips gently pushing the toy into you again. “I’m sorry guys, but I think me and Nat are going to go now,” you address the group, confusion taking over their faces, “I’m just a little tired from the recent mission still.” You don’t give them enough time to ask anything more before you’re out of the door, Natasha hot on your tail.

When you are both in your room, Natasha pins you to the door, her mouth immediately claiming yours and dragging out lewd noises from the back of your throat. Her hands lift you up, legs instinctively wrapping around her toned middle while your hands tangle themselves in her locks.

“Nat,” you moan out when she bites down on your bottom lip before soothing it by gliding her tongue across it. “Please,” your breath shaky as you feel her grind her hips into you, the position of the toy perfectly rubbing against your dripping core.

“What do you want, Kotenok?” She rasps out, pulling back to gaze into your eyes, hers completely blown with lust.

“Fuck me, please,” she carries you over to the bed, carefully placing you down and crawling on top. Her hands find the zip of your dress, swiftly pulling it down while your hands scramble to unbutton her shirt and unfasten her belt to drag her pants down. “Nat,” you whine when she kisses across your neck, venturing lower till her mouth meets the top of your breasts. With one hand, she unclasps your bra, carelessly discarding it in the room before taking a perk nipple into her mouth. “Shit,” you sigh out, head lolling back as she swirls her tongue expertly around your nipple, one of her hands pinching and pulling the other, occasionally rolling it between the pads of her fingers. You moan out into the room when she bites down lightly, the slight pain making the throb between your legs even more unbearable.

“Such a pretty sight,” she murmurs while switching breasts, her green eyes piercing into your own as she peers up at your flushed face and part lips. “God, you have no idea what you do to me, how wet you make me,” her voice breathy before her lips wrap around your nipple, hands drifting lower till her fingers press ever so gently onto your panties, the wet spot making her groan around you.

“Please stop teasing me,” you whimper out, fingers tugging on her locks to get her to move away from your chest. “I need you now.”

“What do you need me to do?” she teases, voice laced with mischief as she feels you bucking against her fingers.

“I need you inside me. Now.” Her hands quickly pull down your soaked panties, mouth lowering till her breath fans over your core. When you’re about to beg her again, she licks up a stripe from your entrance to your clit, a broken moan escaping your throat. Her mouth goes to your clit, swirling her tongue around it just how you like it to have your hips trying to rut against her face. Her fingers soon tease your entrance, your hands gripping the bed sheets and bleeding white. Your head is thrown back when she thrusts two fingers straight into you, a wave of pleasure washing over you as moans tumble out of your mouth.

“Oh god,” you groan out when she curls her fingers inside you along with sucking harder on your clit. You look down to see her eyes already looking at you, another moan escaping you at the look of pure lust in her eyes, her dilated pupils turning the green in her eyes to mere slithers.

The feeling of her fingers already has you nearing your orgasm and you can only imagine how you’d feel with the large toy inside you. “Please fuck me with your cock, I need it. Please,” you groan out, her slowing the pace she pumps her fingers into you to earn a frustrated whimper.

“You need it that bad, huh?” she taunts, “You just love being my cockslut, don’t you?”

“Yes,” you sigh out, “Please, I’m your little slut, please fuck me.” You still whine when she pulls away from you completely but that soon turns into a loud moan when she guides the tip of the toy to tease your entrance. A guttural noise escapes you when she thrusts the toy into you, letting you adjust before pulling back and slamming her hips forwards. “Fuck,” you practically scream as she starts a brutal pace, your hands finding purchase on her back, nails scratching down it and leaving red marks in their trails.

“I bet you feel so tight around me,” she whispers against your lips before kissing you once again, swallowing your moans as her hips snap into you. You can feel the whole toy stretching you out like she said early, her face pulling away from yours to watch as the toy disappears into your greedy cunt. “You’re so beautiful, spread out like this, just for me,” she pants against yours lips as her pace somehow picks up, the toy reaching spots inside you that has you seeing stars.

“Natasha,” you moan, the sounds of your sinful noises and skin slapping echoing around the room, “Please can I come?”

“Come all over my cock Kotenok,” she husks out and that’s all it takes for your body to tense under her, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your legs shake slightly as she continues to pump her hips into you before slowing down when you’ve ridden out your aftershocks. “Good girl,” she praises as you try to regain your breath. You feel her pull out and whimper at the loss before you feel her rolling you over, her hands lifting your hips up, “On your knees,” her tone dropping and octave as her hands drift to your ass, hitting it once or twice before lining the toy up once again.

Her hand makes a makeshift ponytail out of your hair, using it to pull your head back as she thrusts into you. Your mind fogs with the feeling of being so full, the constant pleasure as she pounds into you from behind. Her name falls out of your mouth like a chant, your arms collapsing under you, her arm wrapping around your middle and pulling you flush against her so you don’t fall.

A low moan escapes her, the base of the strap rubbing more firmly on her clit than before, her orgasm quickly building in the new position. The sounds of her moans against your ear, the strap hitting your sweet spoke everytime she thrusts it into you, has your second orgasm approaching.

“Fuck I’m gonna come,” she groans, her hot breath tickling your neck and sending a shiver down your spine. “Do you want me to fill you up?” she bites your neck as she murmurs her words, you frantically nodding your head at her question.

“Please do,” she lets out a shaky breath at how desperate you sound, “Please come in me.” Her hand lowers to squeeze the bottom of the toy, fake cum emptying into you as her orgasm crashes over her, hips stuttering into you. Your own orgasm happens at the feeling of being filled up, moans reverberating off the walls as you both ride out your orgasms.

“You did so well for me,” she whispers, pulling out the toy and moaning to herself as the white liquid slowly oozes out of you. “Such a good girl,” she praises as you fall more into her embrace, exhaustion taking over you.

The next few moments of being washed and cared for pass in a blur, your head now resting on her chest as her fingers slowly scratch your scalp soothingly.

“I love you,” you murmur before sleep overtakes you.

“I love you too, Kotenok.”

[corrodedhawkins]

Withdrawal: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Follow up to Prozac

Content warnings: 18+ (minors DNI), language, oral (f!receiving), fingering, crying (non-sexual this time), Eddie being a very supportive but also very horny boyfriend, multiple orgasms and praise.

This fic deals with mental health, mental health medication, withdrawing from medication, the possible side effects of these medications, including sexual dysfunction and the shame that can come with them. Please skip this if any of these things are triggering for you.

Authors note: this is inspired by me finally getting off of my SSRI and being able to feel my clit for the first time in five years. We’re celebrating

After years of being on an SSRI and attending weekly sessions, your therapist thought you had made enough progress to taper you off of your Prozac and onto an NDRI with less side effects. They had warned you the withdrawal process would be difficult, but nothing could have prepared you for what hell the next few weeks would be.

Your emotions were all over the place, and you found yourself screaming one minute then bursting into tears the next. The brain zaps were horrible, jolts of electricity shocking you so suddenly you nearly doubled over every time.

Eddie, bless him, had been a saint through the whole process. He let you scream and cry, and when you were done, he’d scoop you up into his lap and you’d fall asleep against his chest, exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster.

He would stop at the store on the way home to grab your favorite ice cream, candy bar, or anything else he thought could make you smile. You had to admit, it was hard to be upset when Eddie was shoving a bag full of chocolate, bubble bath, candles and a book into your arms as he ushered you into the bathroom.

Three weeks into withdrawal you finally start to feel better, your emotions much more stable with only the occasional brain zap. As supportive as Eddie had been, he missed being intimate with you. The second he was sure you were feeling better, he practically shoved you down onto the mattress. He crawls between your legs, whispering a, “missed you”, to your pussy before diving in.

Your snort of amusement turns into a cry of pleasure as you feel Eddie’s tongue lap at your clit.

“Holy fuck”, you stare down at him, propping yourself up onto your elbows. “Wha-what are you doing?”, you gape.

Eddie lifts his head from between your thighs, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. “Eating your pussy?”, he answers slowly, tone questioning.

“No shit”, you slap at his shoulder weakly. “I mean, what are you doing differently? Feels really good.”

He ducks back down to mouth at your clit, sucking the bud into his mouth as his tongue swirls around it. You feel him smirk against you when your hips jolt, hand flying to bury your fingers into his hair.

“You mean this?”, he asks before diving back in and sucking harshly at your clit. His big hands grab your hips to keep you still, pinning you to the mattress.

“Hah-yes. D-don’t know where you learned that but it’s good.”

As much as he loves seeing you enjoy yourself, his confusions wins out. “Baby”, he murmurs as he kisses your inner thighs, his day-old stubble scraping against the sensitive skin. “M’not doing anything differently. This is what I always do. Want me to keep going?”

“Please”, you breathe.

You feel him nod against you as he peppers kisses from your inner thighs to your slit, tongue darting out to lick a stripe from your hole to your clit.

“Ohmyfuckinggod”, you yelp, throwing your legs over his shoulders for leverage. You buck up as much as you can in his hold, grinding Eddie’s nose into your clit as he laps up the slick dripping from your hole to the sheets below.

“Can I have your fingers? Please?”, you whine pathetically as Eddie reaches up to shove two fingers into your mouth. You immediately suck on them, getting them nice and wet.

With one last swirl of his tongue against you, he pulls his fingers from your mouth and taps them against your hole. “This what you want?”

“Yes”, you cry, a little louder than you meant to.

Eddie chuckles, placing a kiss to the inside of your knee. “S’okay, I got you.”

His fingers inside of you is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. They drag against your g-spot, sending sparks of pleasure up your spine, your thoughts a mess of “whatthefuckwhatthefuck”.

The usually elusive orgasm builds quickly, one hand tangled in his curls as the other grips the sheets below. “Please don’t stop”, you beg.

“Not stopping”, he promises, thumb reaching up to swirl circles around your clit as he speaks. “I can feel how close you are, sweetheart. You gonna cum for me?”

All you can do is nod frantically, hand tightening against his scalp.

His mouth replaces his thumb on your clit, keeping the hard but steady pace of his fingers curling up against your g-spot.

It only takes seconds before you’re crying out, muscles seizing before you’re shaking apart as you cum against his tongue.

Sagging back against the pillows, you ride out your orgasm until you’re overstimulated, shoving his head away as you catch your breath.

“Good?”, Eddie smirks, biting playfully at your thigh.

You stare at him for a moment before it hits you. “No way, no fucking way.” Your hands come up to cover your face, the realization making your stomach flip.

“What? What is it?”, Eddie’s on you in an instant, pulling your hands away from your face to get a good look at you. “Baby, talk to me.” His eyes flick over your features, desperately trying to figure out what’s wrong.

The tears you’ve been holding back fall as the care in his tone hits you. “That’s what I’ve been missing?”, you practically wail.

Eddie reaches up to wipe the tears from your face, a look of genuine bafflement etching features. “Huh?”

With a huff, you sit up and wipe the remaining tears from your face. “I just came in less than two minutes, Eddie. Two minutes.” Two fingers are thrust against his chest to emphasize your point. “And I felt everything. Nothing felt numb or dull. It’s like my clit just woke up from a thousand year slumber.”

He snorts at that, biting his lip when you shoot him a glare. “Isn’t…isn’t that a good thing?”, he asks timidly.

“Of course it is”, you try to take a deep breath and fail, the tears coming back before you can stop them. “It’s great, but now all I can think about is how I‘be been cheated out of that with you because of my meds”, you sniffle. “I’d been on it so long I didn’t even remember I could feel like that.”

“Baby”, Eddie sighs, his heart breaking for you as he wraps you in his arms, your head resting in the crook of his neck. “M’so sorry you spent so long like that. Please don’t cry.”

“Can’t help it”, you mumble, burying your face back against his shoulder.

His hand rubs over your back soothingly, waiting for you to to settle before he speaks. “Y’know, I think you’re looking at this entirely the wrong way.” Eddie pulls back and tilts your chin up to look at him.

“Hear me out”, he tucks a few strands of hair behind your ear and leans in close. “If the way you were flailing around like you were possessed is any indication, I think it was pretty good for you?”

“You’re exaggerating”, you turn your attention to his hands, fiddling with the ring on his middle finger, twisting it back and forth.

“Mhm no baby, I’m not. I almost called a priest. Got a little worried we needed an exorcism.” He presses a quick kiss to your temple as you giggle, relieved he can make you feel a little better.

“And if it felt that good”, he continues, voice dropping a few octaves. He knows what that tone does to you, the bastard. “And you came that quickly, imagine how good it would feel if I laid you out and took my time with you, pulled out every trick I know. Imagine how many times I could make you cum.”

You can hear the smirk in his tone as his hand snakes down your body, thumb swirling deliciously slowly around your clit.

A shaky breath rushes out of you, the feeling of your clit starting to throb again startling you. If you were lucky, you came once, unable to even think about a second orgasm. Apparently, things had changed.

Eddie nuzzles into your neck, sucking kisses to the exposed skin, his thumb picking up speed. “Think you can go again?”

He chuckles against your skin when you immediately nod. “Are you gonna be a good girl and let me do whatever I want with you?”

You made a mental note to send your therapist a fruit basket as you came for the third time that night.

[kimoralov3]

Marry You

Requested by: @arkofblake Word Count: 2738 Pairing: Steve Harrington x gn!reader Warnings: swearing, angst, steve is a bit of a dick, mentions of steve's parents, tears a/n: did not mean to post this on 4/20 but hey lmao

 You would think that after all the years you and Steve had known each other, nothing that he could do would surprise you.

You were wrong. 

Currently, you, Steve, and Robin were sitting in her backyard catching up. You and Robin were talking about everything that had happened while the two of you were at college, with Steve occasionally chiming in every now and then for clarification about someone’s name or why what they had done was so bad. When it came time for Steve to share what he had been up to while the two of you were away, he said not one, but two things that sent a bolt of shock down your spine. 

“Well, I got a job working at the Sheriff’s office and went on a few dates. Other than that though, these past couple of months have been uneventful.” He said as he casually took a sip of his soda. You and Robin both gave each other a shocked look before turning back to Steve and speaking at the same time.

“You went on a date and didn’t tell me about it?” Robin yelled.

“You’re working at the Sheriff’s office?” You asked as you sat up straight. Steve looked between the two of you, not sure why either of those things were surprising. 

“Yeah, I got a job at the Sheriff’s office; it’s just sorting through papers and stuff so it’s nothing special. Why are you so surprised that I’ve been on a date?” Steve asked as he turned towards Robin. She scoffed as if it was the most obvious thing ever.

“Steve, when I first met you you were still hung up on Nancy Wheeler and constantly got shut down by every girl you looked at. How did you manage to find a date?”

“First of all, I was not hung up on Nancy,” At that, you and Robin let out loud chuckles. Steve rolled his eyes at the both of you before continuing. “And just so the two of you know, there are plenty of guys and girls that want to go on dates with me.”

You had calmed down at that point, whipping fake tears from your eyes. “Ok, so, did any of these lucky guys or girls stick? Does Steve Harrington have someone special in his life that his best friends should know about?” 

Steve thought for a moment before answering. “Nah, none of them really had what I was looking for. There wasn’t that spark that people always talk about, you know?” His words seemed rehearsed almost, as if he had spent an ample amount of time thinking about this. 

“Ugh, you disgust me. You and Y/N sound just the same, always talking about some ‘spark’. The two of you should just get married already.” She said as she playfully shoved Steve’s arm.

“Says the one in a relationship! Seriously, let’s not forget all the sappy shit you said at the beginning of you and Nancy’s relationship.” Steve pointed out. While Steve and Robin argued about who was right, you took time to consider Robin’s second statement.

A few years ago, if someone had made that statement both you and Steve would have immediately shut them down. The two of you? In a relationship? Never in a million fucking years.

But things have changed in the past few years— in good ways and bad ways. Outside of both of you almost dying multiple times, you’d both grown as people. Steve was no longer the biggest dick you’d ever meet and you had learned how to stick up for yourself. 

And your personalities weren’t the only thing to grow over the past few years. You’re the first to admit that when the two of you were in elementary school, you had a little crush on him. These feelings had gone away by the time the two of you reached middle school, but something about working close proximity with Steve at Scoops Ahoy reminded you of the sweet little boy you had fallen in love with all those years ago.

During the months you were away at college, you had spent more time than you’d like to admit thinking about Steve. His smile, the look in his eyes he gets when he’s listening to you, the way his eyebrows furrow whenever he’s stressed or focusing really hard on something. 

You were head over heels in love with Steve Harrington, but there was nothing you could do about it. 

—

The first few weeks of your summer break seemed to go by in a flash. Most of it was spent driving around town with Robin and Steve, or stopping by the Byers-Hopper household to hang out with all the kids. It was fun to watch Dustin and Steve argue about the most random things, and it was nice to catch up with Nancy, Max, and El. 

However, you noticed that after the conversation you, Steve, and Robin had had a few weeks ago, Steve had been distant. Which didn’t make sense, because when you first got back he had practically tackled you to the ground. 

You first noticed it when the three of you went to the local diner right after that conversation. It was getting pretty late, so there weren’t many people left in the diner except for truckers working the night shift.  Y’all all ordered your usuals — a strawberry milkshake and fries for Robin, a cookies and cream milkshake and a burger for you, and a strawberry milkshake and a bacon cheeseburger for Steve. When the waitress came back with your orders, it was clear that she was trying to flirt with Steve.

“Alright, here are all of your burgers, fries, and milkshakes. Is there anything else I can do for you cutie?” The waitress asked, turning her full body towards Steve. She was posing herself in a way to make her seem more appealing, but it clearly wasn’t working judging by the uncomfortable look on Steve’s face. 

“Uh, no thanks, we’re good.” He said simply. The waitress flashed him another smile before walking off. 

Once she was out of earshot, Robin let out a scoff and turned towards the two of you. “Well, that was awkward.” 

“Yeah, I mean it was clear that you weren’t interested. Right, Steve?” You asked as you turned toward Steve and took a sip of your milkshake.

Steve didn’t say anything, just moved the straw around in his milkshake. It took you and Robin calling his name a few times to get a response from him. “Hm? I’m sorry, I spaced out. What did you say?”

You looked him up and down before responding. “It’s nothing important. Are you okay? You’ve been acting strange since we got in the car.”

“What, am I not allowed to be quiet?” Steve scoffed. 

“Wow, okay. No need to get all rude, I was just checking in on you.” You replied as you sat back a little.

“Well you surely weren’t worried about checking in on me when you fucked off to college.” Steve snapped.

“Steve!” Robin hissed. “What has gotten into you?”

“What, it’s not my fault that they left me behind! Both of you did, actually.” His voice was getting louder, causing the few people left in the diner to turn toward your table. Including the waitress that couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of Steve, even now.

“If you want to be a dickhead towards me that’s fine, but you have no right to raise your voice at Robin, Harrington.” To anyone else, you might have sounded calm, but Steve knew better than that. Because the two of you knew each other more than you know yourselves. 

At least you had thought so, but apparently, more things than you thought had changed since you’d been away at college. 

“Whatever, Y/N.” Steve got up, threw some money on the table, and stormed out of the diner.

“What the fuck is his problem?” Robin mumbled as she watched him walk out.

“I have no idea, but as long as he has some giant stick shoved up his ass, I don’t give a fuck.” You said as you took a sip of your milkshake. 

—

The next few days you spent alone. Steve was still acting like everything wrong in the world stemmed from you, and Robin didn’t know how to handle it when her two best friends were at odds. 

You were currently propped up on your bed, going through your diary from when you were in middle school. The pages looked and felt as pristine as they did back then — Steve always teased you for taking such good care of your diaries, but you’d always remind him that when you were rich and famous one day, these would be of the utmost value. 

Dear Diary,

Today was a great day. Steve, Jonathan, and I hung out after school, but Jonathan had to go home so it ended up just being me and Steve. I helped him out with some homework, and he told me about his weekend baseball practice. When I was helping him with his homework, our hands accidentally touched, but it didn’t mean anything! I’ve been over him since 6th grade, and he’d never be into me like that. We’re just friends, and I’m completely fine with that. It’s better than nothing, actually. 

Anyways, it’s almost time for dinner, and mom’s making chicken alfredo. Goodbye for now, unless I think of more to talk about later. 

“Wow, this was definitely written by a 13 year old.” You said with a scoff as you slammed the book shut and threw it towards the end of the bed. 

Ok, maybe you still had feelings for Steve when the two of you were in middle school, and working so closely with him at Scoops did not help your situation at all. And after what happened at the diner, Steve had made it pretty clear to you that he was not interested in you. He might even hate you now. 

“What’s got you thinking so deeply?” A voice asked. You looked towards your door to see Steve standing there, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets. 

“What are you doing here, Harrington?” You asked as you hugged your knees to your chest. How did he even get in?

“Your mom let me in, she said you’ve been holed up in your room the past couple of days,” He started. When he got no response from you, he continued talking. “I came to apologize. I had no right to speak to you the way I did.”

“You’re right, you didn’t.” You simply stated. Steve shifted a little, like he didn’t know what to do now. You sighed, scooting over and patting the bed. “Come sit down.” 

Steve gave you this sad puppy look, almost like he was asking if you were really sure you wanted him around. You patted the bed again and he walked over, sitting down slowly. 

“What’s going on Steve? Like actually going on, don’t give me that bullshit you gave me the other day about me going to college and forgetting you, because you know that I would never forget you. I’d never want to.”

Steve groaned, pushing the palms of his hands against his eyes. “I know, I’m a fucking idiot.” It’s just that—” Steve broke off, letting out a sigh as he tried to think of what to say next. You looked at him, raising an eyebrow as a signal for him to continue. “I didn’t know what to do with myself when you left for college. I mean, we’ve been best friends since elementary school, how was I supposed to go on about my day while knowing I couldn’t just pop over to your house when something went wrong? It just felt like I was losing my only support system; god knows my parents aren’t fucking interested in me. And I know that’s not an excuse, but let’s be honest. I’ve never been particularly good at managing my emotions.” He ended off with a chuckle. His eyes had gone a little red, as if he was fighting back tears. 

You scooted closer to him, wrapping your arms around him in a sort of side hug. “Oh Steve. Why didn’t you tell me about this before I left?”

“And stop you from following your dreams? No way, I could never do that to someone I love.” He mumbled as he looked at you. The look was filled with so much tenderness, it hurt you to have to look away. Now you began to tear up, thinking about all the things that needed to be said between the two of you. How could you possibly let him leave like this when he so clearly needed you.

“I have something to tell you.” You said as you turned Steve to fully face you. A few tears had fallen down his face at this point, and for a second Steve moved back a little. As if you were about to break his heart.

“What, did you meet some boy at college and I’ve just made a complete fool of myself?” Steve attempted at a joke. You of course saw through it; his eyes seemed to have gotten even more red and now the tears were streaming down his face at this point. 

“Steve, look at me,” You say as you gently tilt his head to look you in the eyes properly. “I love you too, and I have loved you for years. Honestly, if you haven’t figured that out by now I must be one hell of an actor. When we were in elementary school I had the biggest crush on you. And as far as going off to college, it was really fucking hard for me too. We’ve been inseparable since birth basically. Living a life without you? It was fucking hell. Then I came back and you seemed to be finally moving on. I didn’t want to fuck that up because you deserve to be happy.”

“Well you’re what makes me happy.” Steve said softly, smiling now that everything was out in the air. 

“Well if I make you so happy, why don’t you do something about it?” You teased as you backed away from him. Steve scoffed, pulling you closer and softly pressing your lips together. The kiss was soft, like being wrapped in the fluffiest blanket of comfort. Steve tasted a little like salt from the tears, as well as the mintyness from his favorite chewing gum. 

The two of you pulled away after a few moments, not wanting the kiss to end. When you finally opened your eyes, Steve was looking at you. And from the look in his eyes, you could tell that everything he had  said to you since he walked in your room was genuine. And what more could a person ask for?

“God, I’ve been waiting to do that since we were like 8.” He finally said, breaking the silence.

“I’ve been waiting to do that since we made that pact to marry each other when we were 5.” You said with a giggle. 

“Wow, ok, I can’t believe that you actually remember that.” Steve groaned as he leaned his head on your shoulder. 

“Oh I more than remember it. In fact, I probably have that contract that you wrote up and made me sign laying around here somewhere.” You said as you began looking around. Steve’s eyes widened, and he quickly wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closely to his chest before you could get up and look for the alleged paper. 

“Please don’t, I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one night.” He mumbled into your ear as he laid his head on your shoulder once again.

You let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled your eyes, dramatically throwing your arms up in the air. “Fine, I won’t look for it now. It’ll just have to wait until our wedding.” 

“Oh, you’re already planning our wedding?” Steve asked as he looked at you.

“Oh please Steve, I’ve had this wedding planned since middle school. It’s going to be in the summer, and the colors will be a light yellow and white.” You said as you rubbed his arm unconsciously. 

Steve chuckled, placing another kiss on your cheek. “If that’s what you want babe, then that’s what you’ll get.”

[enchantedabode]

Keith Kogane’s NSFW Alphabet :3

This isn’t proofread I’m sorry 💔

Tw: blood and knifeplay

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Keith definitely wipes you down with a warm cloth if you don’t wanna take a bath. If you’re in the mood for something like that he’d for sure do ANYTHING for you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He’s a stomach guy. Flat, fupa, chubby, abs? He doesn’t give a single FUCK he’s laying on it, cumming on it, nibbling, biting, kissing, licking.

Sadly he doesn’t have a favorite body part but if he had to choose it’d be his hair. He likes how silky and nice it is, don’t ever call it a mullet he will get mad.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He will always pull out, he has a fear of children but also the idea of the child being discriminated against for being part galra. If you ever asked him to cum inside you would have to BEG for it, and even so he’d still secretly pull out. (It’s his trauma leave him be 💔)

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s masturbated to you in his lion on multiple occasions, I mean like it’s not like he was in space or on a mission.. he just wanted a closer relationship to you and his lion ig..

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He has the idea thanks to porn and shit but he’s never had actual sex unless it was with you. Maybe he had a fear of it idk.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

doggy style, missionary, reverse cowgirl, lotus flower, and spoon.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He’s very serious about sex, no matter what he needs to know if he’s hurting you or not. Maybe every other time you have sex he’ll giggle when he’s cumming but that’s mostly from the stimulation.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Considering they’re always running away from Zarkon and other aliens of that nature I doubt he has time to shave himself. I’m sure he’ll keep it trimmed but not a full on shave.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

He’s EXTREMELY intimate and romantic during sex. He adores the idea of feeling close and romantic to you especially when it’s something like this, he wants you to feel safe in his arms….or dick..whichever you prefer ig

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He would always jack off to the thought of you before you guys started dating. Of course it was when you guys were flirting intensely and you were getting really touchy with each other. Otherwise he would’ve felt guilty..

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

I have a LOT of kinks for him but that’s for another fanfic. He’s into knifeplay, not cutting or stabbing of course but that look on your face when he puts his knife to your neck or pussy oh my god. He’s also really into blood he can’t help it’s his galra 😞. He likes seeing blood on him when you scratch or bite him but seeing you in pain and bloody is something he genuinely can’t stand. (Hypocrite 😒)

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

ONLY in his room (I’m lying). If you ever begged pleaded or sobbed he’d probably give in and do it in his lion. IF his lion was okay with it, occasionally he’d finger your behind a pod or something. He hates quickies though..

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Training. Seeing you all sweaty and panting, hands on your knees as you gasp and pant after a rough round of fighting with that SCARY ASS DUMMY. God everytime he sees you like that his body reacts on its own, the warmth in his crotch gets more intense by the second.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He will literally NEVER, share you with someone else and if you even mention something like it he’ll get defensive and all worried saying things like; “why? Do you not like me anymore? Did I do something wrong? Did you not like how fast I went last time?” You’ll have to constantly comfort him. Poor baby is so insecure he’s never been in a relationship like this before.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Oh he can sit in between your thighs for hours, sucking, licking, drooling. That shit is a whole ass 5 star meal for him. Eyes rolling back, gripping on the sheets, groaning, moaning. He doesn’t mind getting head although he can eat you up every day if you let him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s usually fast but if you need him to be gentle he’ll try his best to control himself. If he gets close to cumming he needs to go faster or he’ll basically be edging himself.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He despises them with his entire being, he wants to be close and passionate with you. He needs to feel your body against his, it genuinely feels wrong to not fuck you passionately. If you really need it he’ll finger or give you head before you go on a mission or something. Same for him, he’ll allow you to jerk him off if he really needs it but most of the time he doesn’t.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Like I said earlier he likes blood and knifeplay but he doesn’t really wanna do anything other than that. I mean sure he likes the idea of learning your kinks and he’d love to try them but his kinks are pretty solid and he sticks to them.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

His normal human form he can go up to 3 on a good day. If he’s in heat (Bc he’s galra and I say so) he can go about…..too many to count but if I can put an estimate about 5-7.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He has a vibrator for you because he knows it’s hard for you to cum from just penetration alone. He’s used it on himself once and it was a mess, never again.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Oh he loves foreplay, rubbing and teasing your clit and seeing you press your thighs together trying to get as much stimulation as possible ngh~

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Yk how I said he giggles when he cums? Well he also has a high pitched moan when he cums as well. But for the most part he just grunts and mumbles sweet nothings under his breath.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Forgot to mention it but he wants to be chained/tied up and let you peg him (please he needs it)

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Idk that part galra is putting a LOT of images in my head so…normally 5 soft 5.7ish hard. In heat? 7-8 it just depends if his horny levels are high enough.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?

He can go for about 45 minutes each round but for heat (I’m sorry it’s stuck in my head) about an hour or so….each round..

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Normally he’ll wait for you to go to sleep in his arms after cleaning you up. But if he’s in heat (I’m genuinely so sorry) he’ll immediately fall asleep after while you weakly pet his hair from how hard he fucked you.

[ellstersmash]

the beach house: chapter 3

contact

Fandom: The Wayhaven Chronicles Pairing: Mason x Theo West Rating: T for Teen (flashback to Murphy event, language) Words: 2,639 [Read on Ao3] Unit Bravo take to the beach to recruit some merfolk. Theo earns her keep and Mason proves Adam wrong. | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |

Theo wakes to a soft knock on the door, her cheek hot and a little sticky as she peels it off Mason’s chest.

Nate pops his head in and drops Mason’s bag just inside, eyes averted. “Adam has spotted signs of the merfolk a few miles down the coast. You two should get dressed and join us—unless you’d prefer to spend the entire mission in here, of course.”

Theo stretches and pretends to consider it, but Mason rolls out from under her. “Thanks, Nate,” he says. “We’ll be right there.”

Right there is a bit optimistic, considering they both need to wash up again. With a little water and a comb, Theo tames her hair into something resembling a braid, and throws on the first thing she yanks from her bag. It’s a sundress, but it’s comfortable, and if she’s remembering correctly, plans A through C do not involve fighting. Besides, she can kick ass in a dress if she has to—that is, if merfolk even have asses. Do fish? She makes a note to look it up later.

Nate, Mason, and Felix are waiting for her in the living room.

“Ooh, pretty,” Felix croons and slings an arm around her shoulder. “You dressing up for me, Agent West Jr.? Or maybe someone else…?”

“Someone else,” Theo says. “Adam won’t know what hit him. Where’s our guy?”

“Outside,” Nate says, while Felix mimes a dagger twist to his heart and throws himself dramatically against the wall. “We don’t know how quickly they’re moving or if they will choose to make contact.”

“Or if they even know we’re here,” Felix adds.

Mason shrugs and heads out the door. “Time to find out.”

It’s still dark outside, but the clouds have dissipated, allowing the moon to cast a silver glow that glitters across the waves. And it’s cooler than before, Theo notes with a shiver. She spots Adam standing near the shore, arms crossed and shoulders tense.

“We should spread out,” he says as they reach him. “They will likely realize what we are as they draw near and are unlikely to approach us as a group. We will also have a better chance of spotting them from multiple vantage points.”

Nate nods his agreement. “I’ll head north,” he says before striding off.

Adam turns to Mason. “If I send you and Theo south, can I trust you to both keep her safe and complete the mission?”

A thick tension rises between the two, Mason glaring at their leader as Adam holds his hard gaze, unflinching as ever. Theo resists the urge to shrink back, feeling very much like a child fallen in a lion enclosure near mealtime.

“Why the fuck would you ask me that?”

“I am asking about your priorities because you abandoned your watch early—”

“By four minutes.” Theo interjects, and Adam turns his disapproval her way.

“Yes, after he spent who knows how long distracted from his responsibilities.”

“That’s bullshit,” Mason says. “I can multitask just fine and you know that.”

Felix warily steps in. “Adam, I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

“Of course we’ll be fine, and of course we’ll do our goddamn jobs.” Mason stalks off, clearly still fuming. “Let’s go.”

Theo shoots Felix a grateful smile, then shoves her hands in her pockets and hurries to catch up and keep pace. They walk down the beach in a charged silence, smothered by the sound of the wind and the sea. Occasionally, Theo casts her eyes across the water’s surface, squinting at every odd shape and shadow, which all turn out to be nothing more than waves breaking as they near the shore.

Mason stops. “This is far enough.”

“You sure?” Theo asks, peering back in the direction of the house. “I think I can still see Adam.” Or a trick of the light on the dunes, one of the two.

He scoffs. “Et tu?”

“What?”

“Forget it. Yes, Theo, I’m sure.”

Theo bumps him with her hip. “You know I have the utmost faith in you, right?”

His expression doesn’t soften, but his eyes do. 

“And so do the others, Adam included. He obviously woke up on the wrong side of the coffin.”

That earns her a smile. “Quit distracting me.”

But he’s the one who has all her attention. Theo may not be as good a multitasker as Mason, but for the next fifteen minutes or so, she is outwardly diligent even as she fights the gravity of his presence. She watches the water instead of the wisps of dark hair that escape his low bun and whip across his face. She keeps her hands deep in her pockets instead of sliding them into his. She ignores the scent of her soap mingling with that of his skin and the briny air.

Yet another movement out on the water draws her gaze. She’s still trying to decide if it’s anything or nothing when Mason says, “Look alive,” and Theo freezes, heart racing.

A rounded shape rises up from the water’s surface, the being’s face in shadow but framed by long wet hair that drapes down to the sides, like a veil disappearing into the inky blackness of the sea. As Theo calms herself and regains control of her limbs, another appears to the left of the first—then another, slightly behind them. She recalls something from the brief about their sense of hearing not working well above water and slowly removes her hands from her pockets to hold them up, spreading her fingers wide to make it clear she doesn’t intend to harm them.

“Hello. My name is Agent Theo West, and this is Specialist Agent Mason,” she calls out, carefully enunciating each word. “We’re with the Agency.”

None of the merfolk react.

“Can you understand me?” she asks, louder this time, and hopes to whatever god is listening they can. If they need a translator, she’s screwed until Nate arrives, and he may not even know he should be booking his ass over here yet.

“We understand,” the first says in a musical voice, and all three advance. At first, they move with a gentle weaving motion, back and forth like sharks do, then it shifts to a more humanlike gait. By the time the water is shallow enough to stand, they each walk on two legs. All have long hair in shades of teal and blue and green that blur toward black in the faint predawn light, and all are lovely in an otherworldly way.

All three are also super naked—a fact she files away to appreciate later and does her best to ignore for the moment.

They stop when the first, presumably their leader, reaches the water’s edge.

“My name is impossible to say above-waves, but you may call me Ciraith.”

“Ciraith,” Theo repeats. “Pleasure to meet you.” Mason grunts from behind her.

“We know of your Agency,” Ciraith says, then extends a long, slender arm to point at Theo. “And we have heard of you as well. What you can do.” Their large dark eyes are fixed on Theo’s own as they tilt their head, sending silken strands of hair cascading down one shoulder as if made of water themselves. They breathe deep as if savoring the lungfuls of air. “And what you have become.”

For a full and eternal second, Murphy’s needles are back in her arms, his foul compound raging through her veins, narrowing her sense of the outside world to pain and rust and his sharp aftershave, before she blinks hard and snaps back to the present. The merfolks’ features may be mostly humanoid, but their mannerisms are different enough to set Theo on edge. She can’t read Ciraith’s intention. Is this their idea of a warning? A threat? Or are they just making conversation?

“I can neither confirm nor deny any such statements at this time.”

“Smooth,” Mason mutters.

Ciraith takes another step forward, and Theo holds her ground. Despite feeling rather like prey for the second time in an hour, she has Mason at her back. Soon there’s no more than an arm’s length between them, and at this distance, Theo can make out starry little flecks of silver in the merperson’s eyes.

“Tell us the truth, young one,” they say, voice pitched lower and far more resonant than before. A headache threatens, a pinching pressure at Theo’s temples reminiscent of when Mason uses his compulsion around her, though not nearly so intense.

Young one. They hadn’t covered lifespans during her crash course on merfolk—or maybe she just missed that bit—and Theo can’t help but wonder how old the supernatural now standing in front of her is. But before she can ask, the pain in her head intensifies and Theo winces, pressing her fingers to her throbbing temples.

“That’s enough,” Mason growls, and the headache abates just as quickly as it came on.

Ciraith’s expression changes from rapt observation to something like amusement. It’s still hard to tell. “Confirmation of the first, at least,” they say.

“I— Yes,” Theo blurts out, dropping her hands to her side. “And?”

“How might we test the second, I wonder?”

Mason’s between them in a flash, his body inches from Ciraith’s as he shields Theo. A shout comes from the water as the other two merfolk, content to remain passive observers until now, take a few startled steps forward.

“You don’t,” Mason growls. Sounds like his fangs are out. “Back off.”

Ciraith smiles placidly but shows their pointed teeth, and Mason hisses.

Predators. Theo almost rolls her eyes. She lays a hand on Mason’s arm to try and soothe the rising tension and gently tugs him out of the way. “Ciraith, the Agency would like to meet with you in an official capacity. They will ask you to sign a treaty on behalf of your people. For their part, they offer shelter, protection, provisions, whatever you might need.”

Ciraith’s gaze stays locked on Mason’s even as they respond to Theo. “And if we do not need what they can provide?”

“I think you do. Even if you stay under forever, the ocean’s not exactly becoming a more welcoming place as time goes on.”

“Thanks to your kind.”

“Most of my kind doesn’t know you exist.” Not that knowing would stop them, she thinks. “Regardless, the Agency won’t force you to sign. It can’t hurt to hear them out.”

“Perhaps not. They offer these things in exchange for our subservience?”

“No.” Theo shakes her head. “They only ask for peace.” Then she adds, too honestly: “As far as I know, anyway.”

Ciraith’s brow furrows, then smooths as they suss out Theo’s tone. A light laughter, like the tinkling notes of a wind chime, escapes their shapely lips, and a smile more pleasant than the last lingers after the sound fades.

“Very well.”

The stale air Theo has been holding in reserve since this encounter began whooshes out of her lungs in relief. “OK,” she says, not sure what happens from here.

“Our people will remain in this area for two days’ time. We will watch this stretch of sand. Send your Agency here and we will meet with them.”

Theo nods. “I will. Thank you, Ciraith.”

The three merfolk move as one to return to the deep, and Theo notices a shimmer on their skin—or scales, perhaps—as the first full light of sunrise spills across the horizon. As they had spoken together, the sky had gone rose and lavender and gold, warming the shallows to a luminous green.

Ciraith looks back and catches her eye, then silently disappears beneath the surface.

Sheer relief washes over Theo and she turns to look at Mason, unable to keep the grin from her face any longer. He’s still glaring at the spot where the merfolk vanished, but finally relaxes and almost smiles back when Theo whoops and jumps into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist and hugging him tight.

“We fucking did it!” she says, maybe a bit high on her success. “Suck it, Adam!”

“I actually did very little,” Mason points out, “other than keep you from being dragged to the seafloor and eaten.”

“Yeah, but that’s really important. I hate getting eaten.” She leans back and caresses his cheeks, one then the other, and adds, “Nonconsensually, anyway.”

The others reach them and Theo twists to high-five Felix.

“Did you guys see that?” she asks and kicks her feet in uncontainable excitement. “Did you see me totally win that negotiation?”

“A negotiation is not a contest,” Adam says, expression stony as usual, “and therefore it cannot be won.” But he does nod to Mason, who almost imperceptibly nods back.

Felix groans and rolls his eyes. “What do you even mean? Winner’s the one who gets more.”

“By that definition, I did not win,” Theo points out.

“Well, you got what we came here to get! So yeah, you won. Ignore Adam, he’s just mad because he didn’t get to talk to the pretty fish people. He made us watch the whole thing from back there so we didn’t intimidate them, and it was going so well, but then shit almost hit the fan and I was like, ‘Oh, damn, she doesn’t have this,’ but then you totally did.” He high-fives her again, then Mason.

Nate smiles as his gaze shifts from her to Mason, then back. “Yes, well done to the both of you. You two made an excellent team, though that should hardly be a surprise at this point. Wouldn’t you agree, Adam?”

Lips pressed tightly together at the light rebuke only Nate could ever get away with, Adam grunts in reluctant agreement.

Theo hugs Mason one last time, smashing her cheek into his neck, then pushes at his shoulder.

“OK,” she says. “I’m sorry I freaked out. I’m good now, you can let me down.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I shall graciously allow you to carry me all the way back down the beach.”

“No, I don’t think I will.” 

His grip tightens into unforgiving steel as he gives her a frighteningly self-satisfied smirk, then walks directly into the surf—boots, jeans, t-shirt, sneakers, sundress, and all.

“Wait! Waitwait wait—”

The last of her protests is swallowed as he dunks them underwater, and when she surfaces to find him soaking wet and shivering right along with her, all she can do is laugh. A yell of “Make room!” comes from the shore, and she whirls around just in time to see Felix charging in after them, stripping shoes and pieces of clothing off as he goes.

“Come on, you two!” Theo yells. “Water’s fine.” 

She yanks her waterlogged shoes off and lobs them up onto the sand. One doesn’t quite make it, bouncing back to drift freely in the swash until Nate rescues it. He shares a long look with Adam, one of their unspoken conversations, then grins and shrugs off his jacket. He’s got a zillion layers, and is meticulous about folding each one he removes, but ages later he finally wades in to join them in just a pair of boxers she can tell are expensive.

“Wow,” he says, hugging his arms tight to his body. “So, by ‘fine,’ you meant ‘freezing.’”

“You’ll warm up.” Theo rears back to splash him, but Felix comes out of nowhere to scoop her up by the waist with a feral yell and dunk her backward.

“Oh, that’s war.” Mason dives toward Felix, who darts around Nate, who tries his best to avoid them both but ends up as wet as Theo would’ve gotten him in the first place. And even though Adam keeps watch from the beach, nice and dry and tactically superior, Theo swears she can see his ass unclench, and maybe even a hint of a smile.

[pricescigar]

Utter Jealously & Posessiveness – Albert Wesker HC's

Note: I'm really loving the attention, appreciation I'm getting from making these HC's which makes me want to continue even more. So enjoy this batch of HC's. ❤️

And as always... No gender specified, for everyone to enjoy!

Photo belongs to me

CW: Mentions of Swearing , Violence and NSFW

You and Wesker have been dating for over 6 months now, and you've been loving every single minute of it. He was too perfect.

A fine gentleman Wesker is, he treats you right, he's kind, gentle and is always there for you.

Even sometimes it makes you wonder why Wesker chose to be with you, but seeing how happy he was all the time around you. It didn't take long to always see why, always filling you with glee.

You struggled in the past when it came to dating but Wesker came at the right time. You couldn't ask for anyone better than Wesker.

It was almost as if you finally found someone who deeply cares about you...

Occasionally you realised Wesker struggled with his anger, sometimes some situations would escalate. And you come in the nick of time to de-escalate it.

Wesker's temper is something, but you always find a way to comfort him. In turn he calms down, and apologises multiple times for his behaviour.

"I'm sorry my love... I didn't mean to scare you..."

You'd always reassure him it's okay, and even a few kisses on his face makes him feel better.

Wesker would wrap hid arms around you and pull you into his lap, letting you straddle him as he held you closely to his body. Muttering a soft; "Thank you."

More or less his anger shows up more when there's men/women or anyone else around you, who try to flirt with you. And that annoys him a lot.

At first he doesn't say anything of course— He just glares at them, his eyes glowing watching their every move like a hawk.

But if they do get too close to comfort, that's when he would interfere with immediate action.

Wesker would make it obvious that you are his, and his alone. An arm around your waist, holding hands, even kissing you when he arrives.

When they finally get the idea they finally go away, with Wesker's eyes still glowing watching the person walk away.

In some cases his anger goes from a 0 to 100 sometimes, he doesn't mess around.

At first you was surprised at how jealous he got, but at the same time it was really sexy. There were a few times in bed he'd make it obvious, clear that you are his.

"I won't stop until you scream my name."

He would even go as far as to having sex in the office with you, so no one else would have any second ideas to try and woo you.

There was one situation where a man almsot touched your butt but Wesker quickly arrived and broke the guys arm.

Despite how scared you was Wesker always made sure you was okay, hugging you closely to reassure you.

"I won't let anyone try to touch you like that again..." He would say as his eyes glowed.

Another thing that took you by surprise was his possessiveness, from the moment you got together with him. He was possessive and protective of you.

Which took you a while to get used to admittingly, after all Wesker is your first s/o.

Oh how he would grab your chin to make you look at him, his stern yet soft eyes staring at you as he'd whisper...

"You are mine. And mine alone, understand?"

The butterflies in your tummy and the warm welcome wet feeling down below.

Oh how he'd always smirk seeing the kind of effect he'd have on you... Always making him hard, and filled with such joy.

He'd either take you into his office to have sed with you right then and there, bemding over and rutting into you like anything.

Seeing how overstimulated you get, muttering "fuck." , "Shit." With every thrust. Making you cum on his cock right then and there.

Or he'd wait until the evening... After a long day of work, stressed from the day to take you into the bedroom.

Regularly you and Wesker Roleplay to spice up things in the bedroom, it wasn't usual for Wesker to still keep his lab coat on.

But when he'd take you to the bedroom, the familair smirk on his face. You knew what his plans were.

"Doctor Wesker would like to see you now."

Even if it isn't people flirting with you, or it's any other given situation. It doesn't stop him from protecting you, or always making it known that if you get hurt.

They would have to get through him.

[v3ng3anc3-qu33n]

Uncle. (Pt. 5 of Her Revenge Series)

After the encounter with my ex friends, I was rigid not wanting anything to fail. Refusing to let something slip. I sighed as I looked at the mirror seeing my skin with its flaws, my hair misbehaving, and I scowled. Hurriedly fixing it and tying it up out of my face.

"GET THE FUCK UP EVERYONE!!" I shouted annoyed.

"WHAT THE FUCK Y/N ITS 12 FUCKING AM!" Dabi shouts back as he stumbles down stairs.

"TODAY IS THE FINAL STAGE OF MY PLAN SO HURRY YOUR ASSES UP!!! The heroes as according to my plan, are spread thin, including the UA students. The airports were shut down 7 hours ago due to the riots no one gets in or out. So, it's time to execute the final stage." I say professionally, my mood swing scaring him a little.

"Yeah, yeah," Shigiraki says.

We all load up into the vans aside from Toga and Spinner doing their private assignments of killing lower ranked heroes and taking blood. As we drive there is scarce talking until I pause.

"Why isn't Kurogiri just portaling us over?" I ask.

"His powers don't work there genius," Dabi says.

"But why isn't he just portalling us outside the gates?" I say internally face palming.

"We're fucking idiots." Shigiraki says turning around the van.

"Yup." I nod along.

We portal over and walk in, killing the few remaining guards. As we walk, there is no sound aside from a dripping and the occasional creaking it's the perfect horror movie jail set. We keep walking until we see it the maximum security with 7 guards remaining guarding the door and a retinal scan needed to enter the area. I look at the others and as none of them move i decide to take initiative.

I climb up the wall and crawl on the ceiling, jumping down behind the guard closest to the door and strangling him with my thighs muffling all his sounds with my legs before I land on the ground silently. I use a purple glowing chain made of my magic with a scythe head attached and swing it a few times while creating a purple fog making it harder to see me as I take them out one by one. I allow the chain to dissappear and grab one of the guards head and hold to the retinal scanner.

The door opens and reveals 10 more guards inside. I pause and sigh, just flicking my wrist, and my magic becomes curved spikes moving like vines that impale all of them in an instant. I turn around to the others and have a motion signalling them to hurry up. As we walk through more and more sections, they kill the few guards left alone until I stop walking and hold up my hand.

I walk to the final door, my veins and eyes glowing a deep purple as I lay my hands against it my brows knit as my magic moves like a snake through all the gears and mechanisms and it undoes it. I then just wave a hand, my eyes still glowing, and I crumple the door into the size of a marble and drop it i watch as it falls through multiple floors of the building and I walk through.

"Hello, Uncle. Good to see you."

"Why didn't you do that with the first door?" Mr. Compress asks.

"Didn't feel like it." I shrug carelessly

"Hello honey, glad to see you, especially after that message you sent me. Tsk tsk they have made quite the powerful enemy of you." All For One says.

I smile sinisterly as a cruel laugh slips out.

-V3ng3anc3

hi guys, as always, constructive criticism is welcome, and all support is appreciated!

[workingforitallthetime]

I know it‘s been a few years but I still occasionally think of ‚ain't like anywhere else‘. You‘ve probably moved on completely… But what did you have in mind for chapter 2? 👀🥺

this ask prompted me to open the google doc for the first time in years, so what the hell, let's exhume some remains and do some self-reflection about why part 2 was never going to work.

(all of the bits that follow are unedited material straight from the draft. i hope i've become a better writer than this over the past three years.)

Here's the opening paragraph:

Trevor was meant to be here. Not like he was born in the wrong place, since he’d never give up his birthright of New York obnoxiousness, but like it was all building to this. It’s never too hot. His body can’t soak up enough sunshine, hair sun-kissed, skin turning a permanent California brown. He’s trying to turn Jamie into a Californian but he’s stubbornly Canadian. Fishbelly white no matter how much time they spend in the sun.

the main reason part 2 didn't work is that there was really no reason for me to write my own take on the jamie/trevor origin story. it's been done, and by better writers than me. i just didn't feel the compulsion to write it, unlike the trevor/cole story, which was all mine.

anyway, the plan was to set up some tzjd undefined hooking up during their first season, and then have them stick around in california for the start of the offseason, and have cole come visit after the habs lost in the stanley cup finals (wow, remember when that happened?)

A week and a half later, there he is, waving at Trevor under the overhang at arrivals. Cole’s the most solid body Trevor knows. Dense, like he’s vacuum-packed down to size. Hugging him is like colliding with a mailbox. He presses his face into Trevor’s neck, quick, and Trevor’s not going to read anything into that. That’s just as high as Cole’s face goes.

cole's expecting trevor to get right back to hooking up with him, and trevor's not going to resist. meanwhile jamie still expects trevor to be hooking up with him. trevor sneaks in and out of bedrooms for an awkward few days. there was going to be a golf scene with cam york rounding out the foursome. i did not write any of this. here is an excerpt from my notes:

Need multiple instances of cole and jamie kind of flirting, or cole flirting with jamie and trevor able to tell that jamie likes it, and trevor’s kind of furious but he can’t say anything about it because he’s hooking up with both of them

eventually cole sees trevor sneaking out of jamie's bedroom and cole and jamie have a little talk and cole is unfazed and jamie's mind is blown. then here is the only bit i actually wrote:

It’s silent for a moment in the main room. Then Cole’s raspy voice says something, too low for Trevor to catch over the grind of the icemaker. He lifts his cup off the lever in time to hear Jamie bark a laugh in response. “Sure, yeah.” Trevor can see the TV from the refrigerator, but not the far side of the couch, where they’re sitting. He sloshes vodka over his ice, adds a splash of the first juice he sees, some pomegranate bullshit Trace left in the fridge, and rounds the corner just in time to see Cole climbing into Jamie’s lap. Kneeling over Jamie and smiling, always fucking smiling, he takes Jamie’s face in his hands and kisses him. “What the fuck?” Trevor says loudly, managing not to drop his drink on the floor. They ignore him so completely it has to be on purpose. Jamie’s eyes are closed, face tilted upward to Cole’s. Cole smiles against Jamie’s lips and rakes a hand backward through his hair, tipping Jamie’s head back so he can press in closer, kiss him deeper. Trevor knows what this is like from every possible angle. Knows what it’s like to have Cole in his lap, his smiling kisses, knows what’s under Jamie’s hands as they smooth down Cole’s back and settle on his ass. Knows what it’s like to get hard against Jamie’s stomach, feel Jamie hard underneath him. It’s like an out of body experience, seeing it all happen in front of him while he’s on the other side of the room. Jamie slips a hand under the hem of Cole’s tank top, and Trevor knows how the smooth muscles of his obliques feel, knows without even being able to see it that Jamie’s working a thumb under Cole’s waistband, rubbing it over his hipbone. He was first. He’s the tallest. And they’re just ignoring him.

i did also have some notes for the dialogue that eventually followed:

“And you could have told me you were banging your roommate now?”

“We’re not banging.”

“Oh, what are you calling it then?”

[] “Whatever you and I were doing.”

“Did Jamie get his dick sucked?”

“No?” Trevor says uncertainly, wriggling a little in Jamie’s lap. He would have sucked Jamie’s dick if he’d thought of it. That should count for something.

Jamie, patiently: “Nobody’s getting his dick sucked.”

“Trevor got his dick sucked and he owes me.”

Jamie tugs at his hair again. “I think he should pay up.”

“You can suck Jamie’s dick after. He did get silver.”

........i mean, maybe i could have made this dynamic work, if i'd gotten it written in that era. but probably not. i was much better served turning my attention to umich.

[ae-azile]

Preview of my (currently) untitled ChanBig one-shot

The next few days are a blur. Sometimes Big hears voices around him. Other times, he remembers talking but he can’t remember anything that he said. So in hindsight, he doesn't know if he actually spoke or if it was a dream. He doesn't really know what is happening around him. Sometimes he feels a hand clutching his hand, and sometimes he feels a hand on his head. Occasionally, he hears people speaking in Korean and he has no idea why. But more often than not, he hears someone reading to him in English. 

He could swear that it's Twilight. Why is someone reading Twilight? That is…incredibly strange. But it also reminds him of Pa. Pa struggled with learning English. He could speak Mandarin and Khmer easily, but English was harder for him while Big had been soaking it up like a sponge. He had also been an avid reader at the time, just like Pa, so they went to a bookstore to find some books in English to read together. Big can honestly say he did not like Twilight. He couldn't connect with any of the main characters, and he couldn't see the worldwide appeal. But Pa found it easier to read and comprehend than the other books they had gotten that day, so they continued with the series. While Big feels no appreciation for the book, he feels an affection for it that is hard to explain. 

Is Pa reading to him? What about Poy? Is she around too? She might have actually liked the books if she had lived long enough to read them. 

“Pa?” Big manages to get out. The reciting of the book stops and other words follow, but Big can't make them out. He goes back to sleep. 

Or back to whatever he has been doing. He will try to figure this out later, when he's feeling better. Right now, he can barely open his eyes. He sleeps for what feels like thirty minutes or so until feeling awake enough to open his eyes and squint in the dimly lit room. 

As he forces himself to sit up, he wishes someone were here. Anyone, really. It's been a weird day. He's definitely in pain, but that makes sense. He got shot. He knows he got shot earlier. Going by the lighting outside, it probably happened yesterday. He doesn't feel like he has been sleeping since yesterday, but that must be the case-” 

“Shit, Big!” 

Big turns his head and sees Pol rushing over. He's putting a steaming coffee cup down and his hands are hovering over him like he doesn't know what to do before he gently guides them on Big’s shoulders and gently guides him downwards. 

“Chan said you might talk and not be lucid, but I didn't expect you to sit up. Fuck. If you hurt yourself more, Chan is going to kill me-” 

“What happened?” Big asks. His voice feels hoarse, “How bad is it?” 

Pol pauses and slowly lowers himself in the seat next to his bed, “That sounds shockingly lucid. The only other time you talked around me was when I came down to offer Chan dinner. You asked him to take you to an animal shelter so you could adopt a puppy and immediately fell back asleep.”

Big really doesn't believe that happened. Ma never let him get a dog, even after the divorce, and Pa’s apartment building didn't allow them. He doubts Chan would let him have a dog. 

“Can I still walk?” Big asks. He probably shouldn't get a dog if he can't walk them. 

Pol lets out a breath, “I would assume, even though everyone thought you were a goner for a while. Can you feel your legs?” 

Big lifts his head just enough to look down at his legs. When he successfully wiggles his toes, he decides to swing a leg over to stand up. He's fine. He needs to get back to work.

“Stop!” Pol groans, rushing to the other side of the bed to lift Big’s leg back up before placing it on the mattress, “It was serious, man! Arm and Chan couldn't feel your pulse! It was only detected once you got in the ambulance! You have had blood transfusions, multiple surgeries, and an organ removed! You're on bed rest!” 

Big finds that he has enough energy to speak again, “So I am on Kim’s team until I'm cleared again?” 

“I didn't say light duty. I said bed rest. You are getting a fully paid opportunity to rest and heal. Take advantage of it by doing just that.”

That sounds awful. 

“Is Kinn okay?” Big asks, “Porsche?” 

Pol meets his eyes and nods his head, “They're both safe, and they’ll both be happy you're awake. Chan has been staying with you the most, but both of them have visited several times so they could sit with you. Both were really upset that this happened. Everyone is. You could have died. You had a lot of people nervous and upset for the last week-” 

“I was shot yesterday,” Big informs him. Even that feels like a stretch. 

But Pol just raises his eyebrows, walks over to the infirmary suite phone, and picks it up. 

“Sorry to bother you, sir. I know Khun Korn has you working on some things. But I figured you would want to know that Big is awake…He's a little confused, but he seems lucid. He has asked about his injuries, his employment status, and about Kinn and Porsche. He is still awake and looking at me, and-”

As Pol cuts himself off, seeming slightly alarmed, Big wishes he could hear the other side of the conversation. Chan is smart and level-headed. He keeps everything and everyone in line. He would give Big straight answers about this. Pol is comforting, but he is also anxious. There is a reason he is assigned to Tankhun. Other than Arm and Pete, he understands Tankhun in a way most of them have barely tried. On top of that, Kinn, Korn, and Chan keep Pol with Tankhun because he is good at comforting and caring for people. While Big can only overhear half of the conversation, that is proven when Pol’s tone softens. 

“...It's alright, sir. It was a close call. We didn't expect him to pull through for a while. It’s okay to get emotional over him feeling…Forget I said that, sir. I was referring to myself…Of course…I haven't told the medical staff yet, but I will ring them in…Yes, sir. I will let Big know you are on your way too.” 

Big watches silently as Pol hangs up the phone and comes back over to sit in the chair. 

“Chan will be down shortly,” Pol says, “He would have been down within a few hours anyway. He's been sleeping on the couch.” 

“Why?” Big asks. Chan has a bed in the building. It makes no sense. 

But Pol lets out a huff, “You had him scared. He just burst into tears on the phone.” 

Big narrows his eyes in suspicion, “He did not.” 

“Did too. Heard it myself,” Pol says, “Caught him looking teary a few other times, but this time it was impossible for him to hide, even over the phone. I don't know why he still tried to deny it. It's a valid reason to cry, especially considering you’ve always been his favorite by far.” 

Big doesn’t think that's true, although it is far from the first time he has heard the claim. Big being Chan’s favorite has been a running gag that he is more privy to than most are probably aware of, likely because his roommate is the one who tends to the rumor. But that's just Ken. But Ken does the same with the joke of Arm being Tankhun's spa princess. It sounds silly, but Arm has had more spa permission slips granted to him by Tankhun than the other staff have gotten combined. Ken has a tendency to pay attention to that kind of stuff. 

“Just try to relax, okay?” Pol says, reaching over to press a button, “Everyone wants you to keep getting better. You are probably in the clear. Let's keep it that way.” 

[prettyhobii]

HIRAETH CH-2

MDNI

Prev Next

Six weeks later

Work. Work. Work. Work. Work. Day in, day out.

Nari hasn't been able to get a goods night sleep in weeks.

She felt dirty, she felt used. This wasn't what she wanted, taking her clothes off for old men who bought twenty minutes of her time.

Sure the money was good, but the multiple sexual assaults along with the occasional fights made her feel worthless.

But still she kept up with her deal to Soomin, and worked everyday. Stripping.

Every week she sent most of her wage to her siblings, Jennie and Rosé came over to Nari's apartment last night. For what they called an "intervention", they tried their best to give back the now increased money their older sister sent them, while Felix, their younger brother FaceTimed Nari every night from his training at Hybe.

"We're doing okay Nari, we have money, but look at you. Let us help you for once."

She declined. Obviously.

Back at work, Nari was stripping for a group of elderly men, who we're definitely not afraid to try to touch her.

She didn't care, the drugs she took earlier seemed to calm her in situations like this.

Lisa was now working at the bar, for a higher salary then Nari was stripping, but Nari didn't care. She was just glad Lisa didn't have to do the job she does now anymore. Lisa was a sweet girl, she didn't deserve it. None of these girls deserve this.

"Come on baby, give us a bit more," one of the men jeered from her left, as another groped her from behind.

"Don't touch me." She warned, her eyes narrow with hate at the drunk men surrounding her.

"Don't be a prude, come on, be our slut for tonight huh," another pulled her closer to him.

Nari had enough. Even the drugs couldn't calm her for this one. She turned around rather quickly, and slapped the man, who dropped his drink in shock.

"You fucking dirty whore, how dare you slap me," he pinned her down by her neck, tightly blocking her airway.

Nari hit back, in an attempt to get him off of her, while the other men took his as an opportunity to film and Assult her.

"Okay gentlemen, times up." Soomin walked in with a rather large smile on his face.

"This bitch slapped me, teach your sluts some manners before I do it myself."

Soomin quickly apologised to the men, before grabbing Nari up harshly and dragging her out of the room.

He took her into the back, where he himself slapped her harshly.

"Listen here you fucking bitch, one more wrong move and You're fired. I'll hire your sisters, I'll make their lives a living hell." He hissed, slamming her against the back wall, "when men ask you to do something, you fucking do it." He snapped, before kneeing her in the stomach.

Nari groaned and fell to the floor.

Soomin quickly dragged her back up to her feet by her hair, "you will fucking listen. If you don't listen to me. I'll get those bastards back in here and I'll kill you with them." He whispered to her as he slammed her back against the wall in a chokehold. "You're nothing but a dirty slut. This is your last warning."

Nari nodded as she was thrown to the floor in a fit of rage by her boss.

"Now wipe your tears, and get yourself back outside, I have a group waiting for you."

Soomin left, leaving Nari on the floor, half naked and crying. A red mark left around her neck, and bruises from earlier from the men that attacked her.

Now she truly felt hopeless. She knew she didn't want to be alive anymore, but she had to. She couldn't leave her siblings, especially not when her parents are still alive.

She quickly prepared herself for the new group, before putting on her signature fake seductive smile on her face, and walking outside towards the bar area.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

"Are you sure this is the place?"

"Are we even sure this is an actual vision?"

"It is, I told you. I saw this girl in my dream last night. She's ours, I swear to you."

"Okay, but what if it was just some weird sex dream, maybe you just miss having sex with a girl."

"Maybe you should shut the fuck up Jungkook, I know what I saw."

The seven boys made their way into the club, not knowing what it was. They drove thirty five minutes just because of a dream one of them had about a girl who worked there. He was convinced she was their final soulmate.

"Yes gentlemen, what package are you wanting?"

The boys looked between themselves, before Namjoon spoke up.

"No package, we just need to speak to one of the girls that works here."

"Sorry guys, you have to choose a package to speak to one of them. Can I interest you in number twelve, you get a choice between eight girls, and an hour session."

Namjoon sighed, "look we just need to talk to someone, she has dark hair, brown eyes, and what else did you say Jimin?"

"Be a bit more descriptive? Most of our girls look like that," Soomin rolled his eyes in a playful manner as he downed the last of his whisky. "If you want I could show you the girls we have, and you could pick from there, but you would need to purchase a package."

"Whatever, give us the longest session, just show us the girls." Yoongi snapped, rolling his eyes as he leaned against Hoseok, who looked a little nervous.

"Right this way."

Soomin took the boys into a different room, it was quite large, velvet purple seats, a large pole in the middle of the room, champagne on a table to the side; with a picture of eight girls all piled together.

"Take a look through these, see which one you want, and let me know." Soomin stood by the door, arms crossed whilst Jimin quickly looked through the pictures of the girls.

Right at the back was Nari's picture. Jimin recognised the girl from his vision instantly. "This is her, we want her."

Soomin narrowed his eyes as he saw Nari's picture being held up by the younger man.

"Are you sure? We have much more experienced women in our selection, women that aren't as new." He said, expression tight and fixed into a nasty scowl.

"Just give her to us." Namjoon gave Soomin a stack of cash as a payment, and leant back against the velvet.

Soomin nodded, counting the money before leaving the room.

The boys looked at Nari's picture,

"She's very beautiful, but are you sure that she's the one from your vision though?" Asked Taehyung, as he poured himself a glass of champagne.

He took one sip before spitting it back in the glass, "tastes like piss, don't try it."

Jimin grimaced at his soulmate, "I wasn't planning on."

"I'm nervous," said Jungkook, "what if she actually is our soulmate, what do we do then?"

"Oh so now you're nervous?"

"Yes. What if she doesn't like us, or what if she thinks we're too forward. I'm scared."

Jin leant over and kissed the youngest's head, "no matter what happens you have us, okay?"

Jungkook nodded and softly leant into him for comfort, as the others just admired the rare sight infront of them. Usually Jin and Jungkook argue or joke around with each other, this was unusual to say the least.

Moments later, Nari walked into the room.

Jimin breath hitched as he instantly recognised her.

She was wearing a black two piece, a short crop top, showing off quite a bit of her cleavage, and a short skirt, along with heels which showed off her legs.

Soomin quickly walked in, put his hands on Nari's shoulder, which for some reason made Jimin very angry.

He whispered something to Nari, making her nod quickly, her eyes glancing up to the corner of the Ceiling in the room.

"Enjoy," he simply said before making his way out, closing the black curtain behind him.

Nari, who didn't look any of them in the eye simply got to work. The quicker this was over the quicker she could get paid and go home.

She grabbed ahold of the pole and began swirling herself around on it.

"You don't have to do that for us, you don't have to do anything." Namjoon spoke up, "we just want to speak to you."

Nari thought for a moment, before looking up at the camera at the top right corner. She rolled her eyes to herself before she continued doing her job.

"Please, sit down."

"Look, I can't. I'd love to. I don't want to do this," Nari murdered, "you see the camera up there?" She glanced up at it, "I'll be in deep shit if i don't do my job."

Namjoon nodded, seeming to understand he let her continue, trying his best not to get overwhelmed at the sight infront of him.

"Are your initials M.N?" Jimin asked randomly, as he moved his fingers gently over his mark.

Nari stopped. She looked over at Jimin, "why?"

"Are you?" Asked Hoseok gently, as he two instinctively touched his soul marks.

She didn't say anything, instead only nodded slowly, "why?"

"I'll just say it, because we need to know. We're soulmates, and Jimin," he pointed to the red haired man sitting on the left side," saw you working here in a vision. We all have M.N as a soulmate, and we think you're her." Yoongi said confidently, as he leaned back with his arms crossed.

Nari ignored what he said and continued doing her job, she began taking off her clothes, starting first with her top, as she showed off her figure to the seven men infront of her, who sat wide eyed.

"Soulmates or not, you payed for this. I'm under a contract to give you what you paid for."

She walked seductively past each boy, but got dragged onto one of them accidentally as he grabbed her arm.

Yoongi turned bright red, as his half naked soulmate sat on Hoseoks lap right next to him.

Feeling an unbonded soulmate so close to him made him feel all of the urges he felt with the boys. It was clear to him now that she was indeed their final soulmate.

"I'm so sorry," Hoseok said, helping her off him, "I just meant to see your marks.

"You can't see my marks." Nari simply said.

The boys looked at her puzzled.

Nari grabbed hoseoks arm, pulling him up against her, making him insanely overwhelmed and hot at what's happening.

"You can't see mine, but I'll let you know wether I am or not," she said with a straight face.

Walking backwards, dragging Hoseok along with her, she placed him directly infront of the camera, so she couldn't be seen.

"Wheres your mark?"

Hoseok gulped, "on my chest."

Nari nodded, "of course it is." She felt herself internally facepalm. Way to make things awkward.

Slowly, she lifted up Hoseok's shirt, and touching where his marks ware. She traced her fingers softly over her initials, which transformed into her snowflake mark.

"It's true," Nari smiled at him, "I'm your soulmate."

Hoseok, who's face was red with blush smiled back at her, as he leaned in for a hug. Nari dodged it, cringing to herself as she saw his smile fade, she didn’t want to make this seem unprofessional to her boss.

"Look, I get you just wanted to find your last soulmate, but I'm not allowed."

"What do you mean you're not allowed?" Asked Jungkook as he got up from his seat.

"I can't say," Nari sighed, as she pressed herself up against the wall seductively.

"Come with us." Namjoon said, as he stood up to leave.

"That's not an option for me, I want to. Believe me, but I can't. I have things to do. I need to earn a living."

"We can support your every need," Hoseok said, standing back up on his feet, making his way towards her, obviously feeling the effect of the bonding process already. "Just come with us."

"You don't even know my name."

"Nari."

Nari turned to face Jimin, who was standing directly behind her.

She narrowed her eyes in shock.

"The vision, remember?"

“And why couldn’t you have told us her name in the first place?” Yoongi asked with an irritated scowl. “Would have made the whole finding her process easier.”

Jimin simply grinned at Yoongi, shrugging his shoulders before being interrupted by Nari.

"Listen, I want to. You guys seem great, but I seriously can't."

"Atleast give us your number, we don't have to be in a romantic relationship," Jungkook said shyly, "I mean you've already started the bonding process with Hoseok, so it's only fair to keep in touch with us."

Nari sighed, but agreed with the boys. She didn't have many people to talk to anyway, so perhaps it would be nice to have some friends for once.

She quickly typed her number discreetly into Namjoon's phone, before the boys ended their session early, most of them being shy, leaving her with a little wave, Hoseok however kissed her cheek gently.

It wasn't long, but enough for them both to last a few nights without physical affection from the bonding process.